Finn
by hearts cry scarlet tears
Summary: Some say my mother and father once lived a life like that. Of fancy dress and good food and safety. That always works up a bitter laugh from my bony body, no matter what state of mind or body I may be in. Of course I know of my parents' history. It doesn't change the past or the present though, does it?
1. My Name Is

My name is Finn.

I live in a world where ash creates patterns against the grey sky. Where the very few trees we have are rusty brown and on deaths edge, where the flowers are wilted and the ground is bare where grass once grew. I live in a world where the sun is hotter than ever, burning any and everything; melanoma cancer tops the already high death toll. Our small, barely functioning hospital is full to the brim with patients, suffering from not only cancer but pneumonia, meningitis, blood poisoning and, in the rarer cases, starvation, dehydration and hypothermia. Rare only because the ones who suffer and, in most cases, die from theses diseases are the poor. The ones who cannot afford the hospital. Live on the streets as I do and you will see these cases - and more. And guess what? My home District is only one in thirteen and we are all the same. Except the Capitol, of course.

I, or we, should I say, live in a world where while we die from malnutrition, the rich families within the large Capitol gorge themselves, dining on fatty foods and sickly sweet desserts daily. Their worst vision of death is from obesity and heart disease or something akin to that - most just expect to die in a warm bed after living a snug, well-nourished life. They paint their faces and sometimes their skin, stain their hair ridiculous colors and have closets overflowing with sparkling dresses, heavy with diamonds and other expensive jewels. Their houses are just as bright and even better, everyone actually _has _a home. Of course, this is only what I've been told; tales of wonder passed down from loiterer and addict to the common thief and dealer. Slowly making it's way down through the various ranks of criminal, until the lonely old pick-pocketer finally whispers the stories into the ears of the homeless. From there it circulates, around and around until every man, woman and child knows of the place they call the Capitol. The place of happiness and safety, not of death and danger.

Some say my mother and father once lived a life like that. Of fancy dress and good food and _safety. _That always works up a bitter laugh from my bony body, no matter what state of mind or body I may be in. Of course I know of my parents' history. It doesn't change the past or the present though, does it? It doesn't change the fact that they lost it all, that an uprising so similar to the one they once instigated would tear down their world. That their very child would lead this destructive army and force them to watch as the world they fought off was built once again in front of them. Then stand and stare, helpless, as those who tried to defy were killed by some inhumane method; shot, electrocuted, decapitated, starved, drowned. Bleeding to death was a favorite for sure. The torturous world that had once been banished to the furthermost corners of hell was back, and it had returned by the very hands that had thrown it away.

My name is Finnick Gale Everdeen. I am the son of Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen, and the brother of Primrose Rue Mellark. I am the sibling to the most powerful person within our world, and also the most evil.

* * *

"Residents of District Twelve!"

Mayor Endermine's voice had always been abnormally loud and having it projected over the crackly loudspeaker only made us wince. Bodies jostled against me and the smaller chatter within the groups only grew louder, adopting a more whiny tone now. I felt a sharp pain in my foot as someone stood on it and a short, chubby girl in front of me gasped and spun around to apologize, "Oh, my, I'm so-" She cut off, chocolate brown eyes staring up at me in that naturally wide way they have always had. She recognized me.

"Finn!"

"So you recognized me, Geraldine."

"Of course I did. I've only known you since preschool. And it's Dina, you should know that by now."

"I have changed since preschool, _Dina._"

"Only a little," She grinned up at me, and I couldn't help smiling back. The dark haired, dark eyed, dark-skinned girl, whose family had immigrated from District Eleven long ago, had been my friend for as long as I could remember. She was the only one who had stuck around after the 'Overthrow', as they put it, too. I got the feeling she wanted to say more - I know I did - but it was at that moment our head safetyguard, Maxxel, decided to 'assert his authority' with a quick shot from his gun. Dud bullets, of course, but the sound was enough to quieten us. "Long time no see, eh?" She quickly whispered to me with a wink before turning around again.

Clearing his throat, the pudgy, balding Mayor began again, "To repeat what I have been trying to say for _five _minutes now," He flashed a glare at the groups of teens, gathered in rows within the dry square. "Residents of District Twelve. You are gathered here today to commend and celebrate a great event, organized by our distinguished Government and admirable Mistress, Ms. Primrose Rue." I felt several eyes flick over to me as Endermine uttered the name. I did my best to remain focused ahead and keep the bright red blush from my cheeks. "I would like to invite Ms. Tinker Finkel, an escort sent by the Mistress herself, to the stage to announce this great event."

Mayor Endermine stepped away from the podium and took a seat in one of the two seats upon the stage. As our gazes returned to the stadium, there was a collective sense of amazement as, standing where Endermine had been a moment ago, was now a fresh-faced young woman. _Color _was the first word that popped into my head when I saw her and, boy, did that describe her well. Thick, flaming orange hair, so bright it had to be fake, pulled back into a long ponytail that fell to the small of her back. I could only imagine how long it must be when it wasn't pulled back. With her hot pink skirt and business jacket, emerald singlet and fluro belt, the only part of her that seemed to fit in were her eyes. A soft, sky blue, I couldn't help being reminded of my sister's eyes. Except hers were sharper, more...piercing, I suppose you could say. Whatever way you looked at Tinker, she certainly was _different _and definitely didn't fit in with the rest of District Twelve; torn and patched clothes, dirty skin and all.

For a moment, Tinker Finkel just stood at the podium, beaming down at us with a chilling white smile. It was only then we realized she was waiting for an applause and, reluctantly, we gave her one. For the record, I'm fairly certain there was an audible grumble of distaste from our corner of the crowd. Once the unenthusiastic applause died down, she began to speak in a high, squeaky voice which seemed strangely appropriate for her, "Hello, everyone!

"It is a pleasure to be here today in this, err, wonderful town," She paused, looking around, as though trying to convince herself of what she had said. Chirpy as ever, she continued again, "Anyways, I'm sure you'll be very interested in this new event! The Government is very excited for it. They've even appointed a High Council to oversee it!" She seemed way too perky to be real, and I was beginning to question the theory of robots. "Those of you who pay attention in History are sure to know of this, and those of you who haven't...well, I'm sure you'll have heard the name thrown around." A sneaky smile was spreading across her face now. An icy foreboding feeling crept up on me and I had to resist the urge to shiver.

"Residents of District Twelve!" Finkel's voice was louder as she said this, a sneaky tactic to recapture the attention of the crowd. Maybe she wasn't as dumb as I thought. "It is my absolute _pleasure,_" No, she is dumb. "To announce the opening of..."

"The 76th Hunger Games!"


	2. I Should Have Known

_"The 76th Hunger Games!"_

The words still seemed to echo around the square even after Finkel had finished speaking. Or maybe it was just me, the words bouncing around my mind like a child's toy. I knew, without a doubt, I wasn't the only shocked one. The silence in the square was, in an ironic way, deafening. But _none _of them, no other person within the square, had the same link with the Hunger Games as I did. Even thinking the words made me want to vomit, or maybe collapse. There was a good chance I could do both right now.

For a brief flicker of a moment, there was a look of disappointment on Tinker's face, as though she had expected us to be more...enthusiastic. How could she expect that? Sending your own children away to kill and, most likely, _die, _isn't something to celebrate. However, she quickly regained her composure and began to talk again, ignoring the stunned silence. "The rules of The Hunger Games have remained the same, for the most part. Mr. Endermine will go over those with you in a second, in case you don't know. Can't have anyone missing out, can we?" She grinned down at us again, and I truly felt like I was going to pass out or something. "There is one small, _teenie-tiny _change, though. To make the re-opening of the Games special," There was a second where her expression changed slightly. A look of...sadness? Pity? I couldn't pin-point it. "I assure you, this change is only small. It won't affect the actual game in any way. It was set up by the Head Mistress herself. That change is..."

In hindsight, the moment I heard 'set up by the Head Mistress', I should have known. I should have seen it coming, that all of this was just a sham to get rid of _me. _To kill me and still make her look innocent, the great leader she had built herself up to be. Something akin to that, at least. In hindsight, I shouldn't have done what I did when I heard the words:

"...the contestants have already been chosen."

"What?!" Every head in the crowd turned toward me. Even Tinker had looked across the heads of the many District Twelve residents to look at me. I was faintly aware that I should feel some embarrassment, some emotion other than rage, considering I had just interrupted the most silent moment District Twelve had possibly ever had. But I didn't. Nothing, not even the warning look from Dina could stop what tumbled out of my mouth next,

"You can't do that! The Hunger Games...you haven't even given us a chance to sign up for tesserae!" The very few lessons on history I had received began to trickle back into my mind, bringing the memory of tesserae with it. Surely they knew that the people of the Districts, especially Twelve, would give a killing to receive enough food to last a year, not matter how meager? Tinker seemed surprised at my outburst - her blue eyes had widened to orbs - and seemed to be lost for words, no matter how well trained she was by the Capitol. Again I was struck by surprise at her oblivion and naivety. Wasn't she aware that around her well-fed Capitol home, District Residents starved to death almost daily? That while she lazed around watching television, we were forced to fight and beg for less than the daily necessities?

"I-i'm sorry..." Her voice was shaky, stunned. Clearly she had expected everything to run smoothly, for them to ship two of us off without question. Nope. "I'm sorry that you feel that way," She began again, pulling herself together, "But you have no say in the matter. In fact, right now, this announcement is broadcasting to every other District, and the Capitol. Smile to the cameras." Looking around, I noticed for the first time that, perched upon the roofs of the houses, were five or six cameramen. The others hadn't noticed it either and there was a murmur of surprise and slight annoyance.

I opened my mouth to say more, to make her aware of the fact that _no_ one had any say in _anything, _not even her. Around us, however, there was an alarming click and the back of my neck prickled with fear, my skin going cold. I knew that sound; everyone in District Twelve knew it. It was the chilling sound of a safetyguard's gun being loaded and cocked, ready to shoot. There was no question who their rifles were aimed at, either - me. Balling my hands into fists, I clenched my jaw, knowing I had to keep my mouth shut. If I continued I would be shot for sure. There were many laws in Panem, but there was one main one: no defiance. And I was bending that rule.

I gave her a taut nod, reluctant at best, and she smile down at me in that creepy way. "Thank you," She said and if I hadn't known better, I would have said there was sincerity in her voice. But I _did _know better. "So, moving on," continued Finkel, "As I said before, the two contestants have already been chosen. As always, there will be a girl and a boy tribute, who will both be transported to the Capitol where they will be prepped, interviewed, trained, tested and finally, released into the Arena. Now, for the tributes..." There was a rustle, audible over the loudspeaker, as she picked up a folded over piece of card and opened it. A simultaneous intake of breath from all of us, every single teenager in the crowd hoping, praying that it wouldn't be them. That they could stay in District Twelve, even if it meant starving every night and getting threatened by safetyguards every other day.

"Nyxie Nightingale and Finnick Everdeen!"

I should have known.


	3. The Girl With The Silver Hair

Unlike my mother and father when they had been chosen for the Games, I knew Nyxie Nightingale. I had spoken to her, laughed with her, even shared shelters with her. It was something you did when you had no home, no where else to go. You took what you could get; skin color, personality, age, history, none of that mattered. If it meant you had a roof over your head - or something similar - you didn't say no. That was the kind of relationship Nyxie and I had. Constantly switching from savior to victim, from the protector to the vulnerable. I suppose I should credit my survival so far to her, really. If it hadn't been for what she had done four years ago, if she hadn't defied everyone she trusted, I would be dead right now for sure.

Maybe, in that way, we weren't so different from Katniss and Peeta. Mom and Dad.

_The rain was coming down in buckets. It was almost as if someone had shot a hole in the sky and now it's blood, cold and clear, was gushing from the wound. Those who used the rain - animal keepers, gardeners - would surely be happy, but for me it was a nuisance. More than that, in fact. My very soul seemed to be frozen and my skinny, lanky fourteen-year-old body was shaking so hard I thought my teeth might fall out. Somehow, I had managed to drag myself over to the market an hour or so ago, all prepared to haggle or beg my way into some food. No such luck - what with the recession and supply scarcity, everyone had put their prices up. No one was willing to give up good food for a homeless teen, not even the kind baker who always seemed to have a bread slice or two. It was pay or nothing, and right now I was in the 'nothing' category._

_Walking back to town was even worse than leaving. A few days ago, I had gotten into a tangle with someone's overly aggressive pet dog whilst try to steal some food. Not a good idea. The bite I had received to my left leg had swollen and now, judging by the clear liquid that had begun to trickle out of it, it had been infected. Great. By the time I limped into the square, I was sure that I was either going to die of blood poisoning or starvation. Stumbling over to a bench, I collapsed onto it, body slumped as I closed my eyes and let the throbbing in my leg die down. A couple of guys, who only looked a few years older than myself, leered at me as they walked past, whispering to each other as they did. I caught the words 'traitor' and 'bastard'._

_"What?" I said, raising my head and staring at them through the few strands of wet blonde hair that had fallen into my grey eyes. The boys froze, staring at me with surprised eyes. "I'm not deaf, you know," I continued, "If you're going to talk about me, you might as well say it to my face."_

_They looked at each other for a moment, and I pictured myself punching one of them, just for their stupidity. It would do me good to have a punching bag, get all my worries out. But I knew I had neither the strength nor the guts to do so, and besides, one of them had opened his mouth to speak now. "We think you're a traitor," His tone was almost normal at first, as though he was just stating a fact. A puzzled expression crossed my face, and he continued, voice growing in volume, "It's because of you, you idiot, that all of us have so little food and medicine now! That everyone's getting sick!"_

_"My grandma lost her house because of those damn safetyguards!" yelled another._

_"Hey!" I held up my hands to speak, "It's not my fault. You think I asked my sister to send us all into oppression?!"_

_"Well you could have stopped her!"_

_"I had no idea she was doing it!" I was standing now, fists balled at my sides and shoulders tense. "I didn't know that she was gathering groups of people in the Districts and planning an attack! She never told me she was making an army, or going to start a war and win it within a week! She didn't tell me, okay?!" I was practically snarling now._

_"You know, I ought'a-" One of them began, but I was already walking away, knowing it would be no good to get in a fight now. I was in a bad enough state as it was. For the first minute or so, I managed to keep up a good pace, my rage blocking the pain and leading me through twisting alleyways with no problem. But by the time I reached the darker streets, the ones only people like me dared to go to on a daily basis, I was sitting on the ground, face contorted with agony as pain seared up, white hot, from the bite on my leg. Desperate, I grabbed a shard of broken glass from the ground beside me and cut off the lower part of my dusty pants, letting the cool rain fall onto the feverish wound. It didn't help as much as I thought it would, though - if anything, it almost felt like it was burning. Within moments I could feel myself slipping away, into the dark world of unconsciousness. Just before I did so, however, I caught a glimpse of a girl with, what seemed like at the time, silver hair. The last thing I could remember before passing out was the feeling of her warm hand on her shoulder, so different from both the freezing rain and the burning infection._

_It was nice._

I later learned the name of that girl - Nyxie Nightingale. She took me back to the small, unoccupied flat her evicted family had broken into and treated my wounds - which were so bad I was out for three days. When I did come to, she gave me food, water, and explained everything. How she had seen me around, had seen how bad my situation was. Tried to convince her family to take me in, but failed - who wants the brother of the cause of your problems in your house, after all? But she had gone against their wishes, at the risk of being thrown out, and had dragged me in from the street. It was after that people started forgiving me, at least enough to not attack me at every turn. I was forever grateful to Nyxie - still was, too. The girl with the extremely pale blonde hair - no, not silver - had saved my life. So as we both strode up to the stage, bodies tense with nerves as the crowd around us whispered and stared in shock, there was one thought I couldn't keep out of my mind.

How was I going to take _her _life?


	4. A Teary Hug For You

The room was exactly how I had always pictured it. Warm and fancy, with red velvet couches and at least one thing with diamonds on it - in this case, a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A dark wooden bookcase was set against one wall, while on the other there was a desk with a couple stacks of papers on it. I had already looked through those. Completely blank. What had I expected? News of some secret rebellion? A way to get out of the Games? Gossip? Either way, I hadn't found it. Now I sat, head in my hands as I tried to calm the thoughts racing around my mind.

From the moment I stepped up onto the stage, everything passed by in a blur. Tinker's face still held that disgusting grin as first Nyxie took her place on stage, pushing her hair back as she did so. Typical Nyxie; facing the world head on. She had never been one to hide away, I knew that. But when I stepped up, even Tinker couldn't keep her smile from faltering. I was the boy who had argued with her, defied her precious Capitol's rules for a second - and now she was my 'escort'. Whether she was happy I was going to die, or annoyed she was going to have to spend more time around me, I couldn't decide. Her expression returned to it's full power again as I took my place next to Nyxie, facing the crowd with what I couldn't help feeling was less confidence than the girl next to me. Finkel turned to the crowd, arms outspread, expecting them to applause. They didn't. I felt a brief flush of pride at my District, but I knew it wouldn't do anything other than keep more food from them. Oh well, at least they tried.

Soon after, we had been led off the stage and into the Council Building. I could almost feel the barrels of the safetyguard's guns, burning into my back and skull like a rancher's branding iron. They disappeared as soon as we began ascending the stairs, however, and then I had been left in this room. I knew why. It was time for the goodbyes - what I expected to be my final ones. To be honest, I couldn't really think of _who _I wanted to say goodbye to. The people on the streets, although supportive in the desperate times, weren't exactly what I consider 'friends'. But I had no one else besides them. _Guess I'll just have to wait it out, then,_ I thought, and was prepared to begin thinking through my strategy plans when the door opened.

"Finn!" Dina cried and before I could even look up, I was enveloped in a huge, teary hug. I knew she was crying because of her jumpy breathing and small hiccups, something that started whenever she cried. "You can't go, you can't go..." I heard her whispering under her breath, arms tightly wound around my body, and I rolled my eyes, even though I knew that was totally insensitive. After she didn't let go of me for several moments, I grabbed her shoulders, trying to detach her from myself.

"Hey, Dina, shhh," I soothingly said, sitting her back enough so I could look her in the eyes, "Calm down. It's not that big of a deal. It's okay." The moment I said that, her expression changed. So suddenly I was surprised, actually.

"Okay?!" Jumping to her feet, she raised a hand, and for a moment I thought she might hit me, "It is most definitely _not _okay, Finnick Gale! You're going to _die!_"

"You don't know that for sure," I pointed out, interrupting her. Her glare was so fierce I knew not to do that again, ever.

"Of course I know that!" continued Dina, voice so loud surely the others in the building must hear it, "Finn, you're going against _twenty-three _other people, some of which come from richer and healthier backgrounds than us!" As she finished, her eyes began to water up again and back again she was in my arms, breaking down into sobs, "Finn, I don't want you to die."

Calmly, I patted her head and told her reassuringly that even if I did die, she would be absolutely fine. After all, she sill had a family and friends and she may be lower class but at least they had income, right? But she wouldn't stop crying, so after a while I just stopped speaking and stroked her hair. I was fairly certain that was what calmed girls down, although I'd never had personal experience with that. Eventually the safetyguards arrived and took her away, much to her dislike. Those scratches were going to take a while to heal, for sure.

After Dina left, I was sure I was going to be alone for the rest of the wait. I hadn't even expected Dina to show up, let alone anyone else. But when the door handle began to rotate and there was the sound of steps outside, I realized that once again, I was wrong. I wondered, as the door opened, who it could be - I had no other family, no friends.

To my great surprise, in walked Gaia Snow.


	5. The Beaten And The Damned

I hadn't seen Gaia since the Overthrow. It was a few months after Primrose had taken over, but still a couple before I met Nyxie. I suppose you could say that, at the time, I was numb; I felt hungry, but I didn't want to beg for food. I felt thirsty, but I didn't want to steal water. I had given up on myself, on my life. Maybe I had sunken into that depression they talked about, so deep you just wanted to die. At the time I met Gaia, that depression was probably at it's worst. Yet somehow I still brought myself to help her.

You see, I had just been walking down one of those infamous backstreets, where I would actually end up living. It was warm, the late-autumn sun still hanging in the sky, but I didn't really feel it. I just wanted a place to sleep, to get off my tired feet. That was all I was focused on, and all I had been focused on until I heard it. The sound of a several thumps, and a few smalls squeals. I suppose that's what you could call them - they were too small to be cries, but they weren't the kind of squeak you laughed at. Normally, I would have just walked by, like I always did. But something that day made me stop and turn, stepping into the small alley where I had heard the sounds coming from. I don't regret it.

"Bitch!" A tall safety guard hissed, bringing his fist down, making yet another thump and squeal. From where I stood, I could only see his back, but I didn't need to see any more to know what he was doing. Beating someone, or 'roughing 'em up' as I heard them say in the bar. It was something that was fairly common among District Twelve, although it never took place in public. The 'normal' citizens would be disgusted and call for an immediate replacement in guards. Not like that would do anything, but it would at least lull them into a false sense of security. It wasn't like they had anything to worry about, anyway; you only got beaten if you lived on the streets. The safetyguards seemed to think we were some kind of target, a punching bag put there for them to practice on. Just because we were homeless, they automatically assumed they could punish us. Admittedly, most of us had committed a crime before, but the law stated you couldn't punish anyone unless you witnessed the crime and gave a statement.

With us, that didn't matter.

At first, I was just going to walk away. Why bother helping? I didn't know anyone else on the streets and it would only get me in more trouble. But when I caught a glimpse of black hair, pale skin and heard a slightly familiar voice cry, "Stop it!" I knew I couldn't. When it came to Gaia Snow, the girl who owned the voice I had heard, I always felt some sort of connection. She was, after all, the daughter of the kind leader who took over after the rebellion my parents led. That, of course, also made her the great-granddaughter of the man who tried to kill my mother, but that was in the past. Besides, it wasn't just that; when my sister took over, she was also shunted out onto the streets. The public was told it was because the old regime, the one her mother created, was gone. It had ruined the economy and working order of the Districts and, apparently, it was because of that she deserved to be homeless, like the old regime had made so many people. But the community soon got gossiping, and another truth came out - she had been caught kissing a girl. I liked to think it was because of a bit of both that she got kicked out.

The safetyguard swung around, holding Gaia by the front of her already torn shirt, and saw me, frozen in place. For a moment, we both just stared at each other in surprise, my eyes wide and his...well, I imagine they would've been wide, had he possessed the ability to show emotion. A low growl reached my ears - coming from him, I presume - and he released Gaia, who collapsed to the ground. Her face was so badly cut up, I barely recognized her features; a previously perfect ski-jump nose was now crooked, full lips were now bruised and slit. Her entire face - body, too, actually - was black, blue and purple. And red, too, if you counted the blood. "Oh look, another little homeless kid," hissed the safetyguard, voice low and dangerous. "Come here, you dirty little bastard, and get some of your own medicine." I knew that in a few moments, I would be just like Gaia, beaten and battered and on the brink of passing out. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I punched him.

It was a pretty decent upper cut, if you asked me. He stumbled back, taken off guard by my sudden move. I had never actually had to physically attack anyone before, but luckily my body and puberty didn't let me down. Crouching down, I grabbed Gaia's arms, shaking it and trying to pull her to her feet. "Gaia. Gaia, come on," I hissed, and she raised her head, managing to focus her bleary eyes upon my own. "Gaia, we've got to get out of here." We didn't have long before the guard recovered and came after us again, but Gaia looked really out of shape. She was barely alive, let alone strong enough to flee from a violent man. But I was, at least in some way. Swinging an arm around her waist, I pulled her up, once again relying on whatever hidden strength I had.

"Why you little-" The man behind us growled, but by the time I heard his heavy footsteps coming after us, I was on the move. If I was alone, I know I would have been able to move faster, but considering I was practically dragging a nearly fully grown woman, I was doing pretty well. "Criminal!" I heard him scream out behind us after about a minute of running, and I assumed that meant he had given up. Still, I waited until we reached an alley further away before I released Gaia, letting her slide to the ground. I collapsed next to her, breathing heavily. Bringing my hands up to my face, I wiped sweat off my cheeks. Even though it was getting darker and cooler by the minute, heat still came off me in waves. I had been running harder than I thought.

"F-finn?" I heard a croaky voice next to me and looking across, realized Gaia had managed to sit up, back against the wall. She looked terrible, worse than I had originally thought. Something in the back of my mind told me this probably wasn't the first time she had been beaten like this. I sat up too, and held my hands out to lie her down again.

"Gaia, you should relax. You just-"

"I know what happened, Finn," She rasped, eyes weary. Yet a small smile still played upon her bloody lips. "Th-thank you, Finn. For saving me. You shouldn't have."

"It was nothing. Now, lie down.."

"No, you really shouldn't have. They're going to target you now," She shook her head, and I could have sworn I heard her chuckle. "Go, now. Leave me be. You've done enough."

I shook my head, "No, I can't. You're hurt-"

"Go, Finn. Now." Her voice was surprisingly serious, along with her eyes. I knew not to argue. Getting to my feet, I gathered the last of my energy, prepared for a quick run. "Thanks again, Finn," She said up to me, or rather more to my back. I nodded,

"Bye, Gaia."

"Bye, Finn."

And that was the last time I saw Gaia Snow.

Until now, that is.


	6. Survival And Defiance Come Hand In Hand

"Gaia."

"Finn."

I stood up, although I wasn't sure why. It was like when a higher authority walked into the room - you automatically felt like you need to show respect and give them authority. I suppose that's what this was like. The woman in front of me was four years older than me and almost as tall, despite the gender difference. She had definitely changed since I last saw her; her black hair was in a bob cut now and she was certainly in better shape than before. Then again, being older made you less of a target to the safetyguards, so I suppose that was to be expected. Despite the changes, there was one thing I couldn't deny;

She was gorgeous.

Blinking out of my momentary daze, I began to speak, "Gosh, Gaia, I haven't seen you in so long..."

"Shush, Finnick. There's no time for that," She said briskly, grabbing my shoulder and leading me back over to the couch. We sat down - somehow, she managed to make even a simple action like that elegant - and I tried, one again, to speak. I was hushed by her warning glance as she pressed a finger to my lips. "I thought I said shut it." I nodded, understanding. She was going to do the talking, I was going to do the listening.

"Look, Finn, I know this is bad," began Gaia, taking her hand away from my face, "You're about to go into an arena with twenty-three other teenagers. Most will be stronger, faster, larger and most of all, healthier than you. Put simply, this probably seems like the worst possible scenario, right?" I nodded again, and she continued, "But whatever you do, you _mustn't _give up. No matter what happens, you've got to keep going. Whether your hurt, starving, dehydrated or absolutely exhausted, you must do what you can to _survive._"

"But Gaia, I can't-"

"Yes, you can, Finn. You may think you won't be able to kill anyone in there, especially not Nyxie. Yes, I know what she's done for you," She added, seeing my look of slight bewilderment. "Word gets around. But you will be able to, trust me. It may hurt you, it may nearly kill you inside, but you'll do it, I know so."

"Gaia," I interrupted, grabbing her wrists to quieten her, "I know you think that. But I won't be able to, at least not in my right mind. Don't worry - I'm prepared to die."

"No!" She snapped, pushing my hands away, "You _must _survive. You can't die, not yet. Don't you see what this is, Finn?" I stared at her, puzzled. What was she talking about? Of course I knew it was The Hunger Games, but something told me that wasn't what she was talking about. "We both know the reason you got chosen," said Gaia, calming down a little, "Primrose chose you because...well, you're you. And at first glance, that may seem like a bad thing. That's probably what you, her, and everyone thinks. But that's not all it is."

I shook my head, "You're making no sense..."

"Rebellion!" She shouted suddenly, jumping to her feet, "Rebellion, Finn! Primrose chose you because she wants you to be killed, so she doesn't have to do so herself. By letting yourself die, you're doing what she wants you to do!" It was that explanation that finally made me get it. I finally saw what Gaia, who to anyone else would have sounded mad, was getting at. She wanted me to do what I had always wanted to do, what I had always dreamed of doing. What I had whispered about to the very few I trusted, under the cover of darkness and away from punishing ears. I had to do the opposite of what Primrose wanted me to do. I had to do what she _didn't _want me to do.

"I have to defy her."

"Yes!" Gaia sighed with relief, taking back her seat next to me. She seemed calmer now, back to the quiet girl I had known. "You have to, Finn. You have to use this opportunity to show them what you're made of. Show them that you won't follow their rules, you won't do what they want. When you survive, it'll make her so angry..." She trailed off, and I took this opportunity to speak.

"But I can't. Gaia, no matter what you think about me, I can't do that. I can't kill others. I just...can't, okay? And if I can't do that, there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to lead a rebellion. Let someone else do it, someone brave. Kind of like Nyxie, or you-" I was interrupted by a click, and the door opening. Three safetyguards walked in, dressed in white and with their matching rifles slung over their backs.

"It's time to leave," The first one said, voice deep and monotone. Gaia flashed them a smile - one I could tell was fake - and made a shooing motion with her hand,

"Just a moment, please." The guards looked at each other for a moment, clearly not used to being addressed so confidently and equally. They did what she asked, however, and left - no use making a scene, especially not in one of the Mayor's rooms. Gaia turned her dark blue eyes back on me, "Finn, you _can _do it. Even if you think you can't," Her voice got lower, and she leaned closer to me, "Your mother thought the same, and so did your father. Yet look what they did. You saved me from that safetyguard when we were younger, and back then you were just a scrawny fourteen year old. You carried me at a run, even though I was surely twice the size and weight of you. You did that, and you can do this. Finnick Gale Everdeen, I believe in you," She whispered, eyes so deep and emotional I felt my eye throat choking up. So I certainly didn't expect it when, next second, she had her lips pressed firmly against mine. It was a quick kiss, only lasting a moment, but it was warm and reassuring and breath-taking. Then she was on her feet, nodding goodbye to me, and striding out the door. I was left breath-taken and confused at the same time. But her words had hit home, especially the part about my parents, and I knew what I had to do.

I had to survive and defy.


	7. All That Glitters Is Gold

For some reason, I had expected something more when I strode out of the building. I had expected a clap, a cheer maybe. Either that, or the polar opposite; rioting, fighting, arguing, screaming. It wasn't that I thought I was high enough to be fought for - I may be a male, but I wasn't _that _kind of male - I just hadn't thought District Twelve was so subdued that they would just let one of their own to be dragged off without having _some _sort of reaction_. _Yet when I did walk out of the building, safetyguard on one side and Nyxie on the other, there wasn't a sound. You could have literally heard a pin drop. I wasn't sure whether this was supposed to be some sort of rebellion against the Games, or if they just didn't know what to do. Whatever reason they had, it would piss off the guards for sure. Another family would go hungry tonight.

"All ready?" Tinker Finkel called from her place next to the...whatever that thing was called. It was big, and metal, and I had only ever seen it come into District Twelve when new guards were being dropped off. It moved extremely fast, I assumed, because I had never actually seen it come or go. Only sit there, parked and waiting for the signal to leave again. Now it was going to ship me off to the Capitol to be treated like a royal, then go into an arena filled with kids set on killing me. How exciting.

The guards nodded at Finkel, leading us up to her before turning around and leaving. Still the crowd stayed in silence, waiting, watching. I wondered if they were waiting for us to go, so they could get back to their normal lives, or waiting for Tinker and her posse to go, so they could kick up a fuss. I hoped it wasn't the former, but something told me it was. "Alright! So, you've said all your goodbyes, I presume. Time to board the train!" She clapped her hands in an almost excited manner, so oblivious to the wrong in this that it was almost nauseating. She jumped onto the train - how she did with those high-heeled shoes, I'll never know - and, after seeing us stare at her confusedly, gestured for us to follow. We glanced at each other, unsure, and for the first time, we spoke. Or, well, I did,

"Ladies first." Nyxie nodded once, taking an audibly deep breath. To us, this foreign machine was something new, scary even. No matter how used to it Tinker was, it was still something strange to us. But Nyxie hopped onto the train with - false - confidence, grabbing Finkel's shoulder to steady herself for a moment. As soon as she noticed, however, the pale-haired girl drew away as though burnt. The escort smiled at her reassuringly, but Nyxie looked disgusted. If this had been any other situation, I would have laughed. But it wasn't, and now it was my turn. Grabbing the sides of the, er, door, I repeated what the two girls before me had done. It took me a moment to adjust to the height of the machine, but once I did, I realized it wasn't all that different from normal ground. The surroundings were a hell of a lot better than some places I had lived as well.

Glancing back at the crowd, I looked at their faces, all turned to me. It stunned me how many I knew, how many I could name. I may have been a street kid, but that didn't mean I hadn't socialized. Right at the front of the group, as near to the train as she could possibly be, I spotted Dina, tears streaming down her face. She raised a hand in a small wave, managing a weak smile. I returned it, trying to reassure her that I would be fine. Well, she would be, at least. If only she had come in after Gaia, then I could have told her of our plan. For all she knew, I was going to let myself die. At least she would be able to watch the games on screens set up in the Square, and see me hopefully not die. I just wish I could guarantee her something more than what I had.

"Come on, Finn!" The perky voice of Tinker Finkel broke me out of my daze, and I flashed one last wave at District Twelve before turning to the two other passengers. Tinker clapped her hands and the doors hissed to a close beside me, much to my surprise. I had to hand it to District Three - those engineers sure knew how to build a machine. There was a slight jolt, sending Nyxie and I stumbling forward. The scene outside blurred and turned into a rush of white, and it took me a moment to realize we were moving. It was so smooth it felt like we weren't. Once again I found myself in awe of the engineers hired by the Capitol, their handiwork making me wish I had learnt how to build at least a clock or something. I had no doubts that their tributes would use their knowledge of technology to their advantage.

"Time for a tour!" Tinker's voice was loud and even more irritating than ever as she spoke. She grabbed Nyxie's hand - surprisingly, she didn't get punched right there and then - and ran forward, leading her toward a door. A normal one, this time, not like the other fancy one. "Come, come!"

I had to admit, I loved the train. Despite the fact it was most likely leading me to my death, I couldn't help but enjoy it. The warmth inside, the feel of actual fabric when I sat down. We were shown five carriages; the driver's cabin, the dining cabin, the lounge, our rooms and Tinker's room, in case we 'ever needed her'. I was certain there were more, but clearly those were the only ones we needed to know. After that, we were left on our own. As soon as I could, I let my curiosity get the better of me and explored my entire room, top to bottom. I looked at the books - history on Panem, Capitol guides, blah blah blah - and clapped my hands so many times opening and closing the windows my palms went red. I even jumped on the bed, as childish as that was.

Next on my list of things to try: the showers. Back home, I had heard the safetyguards constantly complaining about our showers, among other thing. Naturally, I assumed the Capitol ones would be amazing. But I hadn't been prepared for jets of warm, soothing water, calming scents and about a thousand different soaps. Just having a shower was the most enjoyable thing I had done since...well, I couldn't remember. I was still trying to decide whether I like the bubbly blue soap or the shiny pink one best when a voice, projected through speakers set up around the different rooms, informed me it was time for dinner. Reluctantly, I dried myself off and pulled on my scruffy clothes, which seemed so inadequate compared to the rest of the place.

I made my way to the dining room, expecting to see both Tinker and Nyxie there. Instead, sat next to my red-headed escort was a girl I had never seen before. She looked only about my age, with haystack colored hair and grey eyes so similar to mine I almost did a double-take. Overall, she didn't _look _like a Capitol girl. They weren't this plain, simple or pretty. But then again, I had never really paid much attention to the Capitol styles, so for all I knew, this might be the knew 'in' thing.

They both stood up when I walked in, and Tinker introduced me to the girl. I smiled at her, trying my best to look mildly civilized, and she grinned back, showing pearly white teeth which made me rethink my initial assessment. Only rich people had teeth as white as that. Tinker then introduced the girl to me, in a similar style she had before. The name I heard, however, was certainly not one I had expected, and suddenly it dawned on me why she was here.

"Finn, I'd like you to meet Ana Abernathy-Hawthorne, your mentor for these games."


	8. Back Track

"Nice to meet you, Finn," Ana said, holding out a creamy-skinned hand for me to shake. I was too stunned to take it, though. Honestly, I couldn't believe that this was _her._ A relative of both Haymitch Abernathy and Gale Hawthorne, the latter of which I was named after. My middle name, at least.

Of course I had heard of Gale and Haymitch. Who hadn't? My parents may have tried to hide the truth of their past from me, but it hadn't taken much for me to discover it. Especially after they were gone. Gale, my mother's best friend. Haymitch, my mother and my father's mentor for their Hunger Games, and I suppose you could call him a friend. What shocked me, though, was that they still had relatives around. I could have sworn Haymitch's family died out after he went, and the Hawthorne family...well, I wasn't completely sure about that one. I'm pretty sure I had read somewhere that Gale had been part of a large family, so maybe one of his brothers or sisters had a child. Either way, it had all led to Ana.

Breaking out of my stupor, I took her hand, shaking it albeit weakly. As soon as we released, Tinker broke into light laughter I could only describe as 'frilly'. 'Oh, ho, you're surprised, aren't you? I can tell," She chuckled, and pulled out two chairs, "Sit, sit. I think it's time for an explanation." We both followed her suggestion, the two girls sitting across from me. There was no food on the table, but already I could smell it wafting through the slightly ajar door. Whatever it was, it smelt delicious. A whole lot better than the stale bread I had to beg for on the streets.

"Well, Ana, would you like to explain?"

"Umm, sure. Explain what?"

"Your family, of course."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, Ana. Finn's not an idiot. You have heard of Gale and Haymitch, haven't you, Finn?" The female escort turned her head to me, and I nodded my head. A look of understanding passed over the blonde girl's face.

"Ohh, you mean that. Okay. So, uhh, well, I'm Gale's daughter, you see. He took a wife in District 2, apparently. And my mom is Haymitch's daughter, although she didn't take his last name until after the Rebellion. I have no idea how _she _came around, but from what I've heard of Haymitch, he couldn't remember the better half of his life," She winked a large grey eye at me, and I couldn't resist a chuckle with her. I was well aware of Haymitch's alcoholism - the historians hadn't forgotten to leave a single detail out of Panem's history books.

"Now that we have that out of the way," interrupted Tinker, leaning forward on the table, "Why don't you explain why you're his mentor?"

"Leave it all up to me, huh, Tinker?" Ana joked. The redhead's cheeks went red. I found myself growing to like Ana; her personality, her overall look and most certainly her lack of fear of the Capitol. That was quite rare nowadays. At least with those who had witnessed the methods of punishment my sister had come up with over the years, which, judging by her age, she surely had. "The reason I'm your mentor, instead of one of those war-trained super-soldiers the Capitol makes, is because of exactly what I just explained. I managed to squeeze some stories out of my dad, and my mom was more than willing to tell. She was a bit...how do I put it..." She lifted a finger near her temple and spun it around in circles. Again, we laughed. I found it ironic how, on the way to possibly the worst event in my life, I was laughing. Joking, smiling. More than I had ever done back home, even with Dina.

"Yes, yes," Tinker hurried us on, clearly getting annoyed with our joking, "Ana has more in-depth knowledge of our history, the Games in particular, than any soldier we could ever hire. _That _is why she is your mentor." She gave us her signature creepy smile, which I was about to comment on when the door flew open and three finely dressed people came in, carrying dishes upon dishes of _food. _But this wasn't the week-old, hard, dusty food I was used to. This was fresh, colorful, steaming plates of everything I could possibly think of, and more. I had to physically clench my jaw to stop it falling open.

"The look on your face is hilarious," Ana commented, at the same moment Tinker cried, "Let's eat!" I grinned up at her, before digging into the food. The two girls just watched as I practically gorged myself on plate after plate of delicious meat and vegetables and fish and _everything. _They barely ate anything, I noticed, but that didn't really matter. I ate enough to cater for five people, let alone two. I was amazed at the fact that this was _normal _for them, something they were treated to at least every week. Back home, I was lucky if I even ate more than once a week.

"Mmm, we're definitely going to have to work on that," Tinker commented as I sat back, gnawing on my final chicken bone.

"Work on what?" I mumbled through my bone, looking over at her.

"Your eating habits," She replied, "They're absolutely horrid. Haven't you ever heard of knives and forks?"

"Back home we haven't got no knives or forks. We take what we get," I said, tone defensive. I knew that I was a messy eater, but I didn't like people using the words 'horrid'. I especially didn't like it when they started to plan my own personality for me. Looking back at them, I noticed for the first time the bemused expression on Ana's face. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. You just remind me of my dad," She shook her head, still smiling. Throwing the bone back down on my plate, I sat forward again,

"So, what do I do now?"

"Nothing," answered Tinker, then seeing the puzzled expression on my face, continued, "You just need to rest, for now. We should be at the Capitol by evening tomorrow, at the least. Once we get there, that's when the real fun begins." A mischievous look passed over her normally friendly face, and I frowned. What did she mean by that? There was the parade, of course, and the training...but I wasn't too worried about that. Should I be?

"Tinker's right. You should go rest," agreed Ana. I didn't move at first, and she sighed exasperatedly. "That's your cue to leave, Finnick."

"Oh. Okay," I said, getting to my feet. I turned to leave, but was stopped by Tinker's voice,

"Don't worry, Finn," She reassured, "You may be confused now, but it'll all make sense in the Capitol. Wait 'til you meet Crym." She grinned at me again, and I nodded slowly. "Okay. You can go now."

And so I left, feeling even more confused by Tinker's explanation than I had to begin with.


	9. The Capitol

It took me hours to get to sleep that night. I just lay there, listening to the quiet _woosh _as the train moved. My thoughts whirled with everything that had happened; being chosen for the Games, the dramatic goodbyes, meeting Ana. It was all so...new, so different. Even the food was different. I had almost thrown up before, my body not used to the rich meal it had been given. So by the time I did fall asleep, stomach ache finally dying down, it was only due to true tiredness, nothing else. Clearly I wasn't used to relaxation, either.

"Waaake uuuuup!" Tinker's high pitched voice assaulted my ears, sending my snapping into an upright position. My gaze whirled around, expecting to see a threat of some sort. Instead, I just saw the same luxurious room I had fallen asleep to last night. "Come oooon you two! We're almost at the Capitoooool!" Exhaling in relief, I rolled my eyes at her childish speaking. The last time I had heard someone extend their words like that, I had been talking to a six year old, and even she had sounded more mature. Only then did I realize what she had just said and, throwing myself across my bed to get to it, I checked the clock.

_3:05pm_

"What?!" I exclaimed. Had I actually slept in that much?! Jumping to my feet, I ran over to the curtains, heaving them open. To my great surprise, it was daylight outside, although the world out my windows was just a white blur. It hadn't even felt like daytime when I had awoken. Grabbing my clothes, I pulled them on roughly, not bothering to shower. I was fairly certain one high-powered shower was enough within a 24-hour period. Exiting my room, I made a bee-line for the dining room, where I knew tinker would be waiting to give us a pep talk or something. It took me a moment to remember where it was - this thing was so huge - but when I did make it, I wasn't surprised at all to see Ana sitting at the table too, along with Tinker.

"Ah, Finn. Hello! Come, sit down."

I couldn't reply for a moment. She was acting so casual, so relaxed. Eventually, I just blurted out, "We slept in."

"Ah, you noticed? Yes, you did. We could have woken you up, but we figured you could do with a few hours extra sleep in your system."

"But...but..."

"I told you he wouldn't like it," Ana said, seeing the lost look on my face. "Come on, Finn. Sit down."

As soon as I took my seat, Nyxie rushed in. She looked to be in a similar state I had been in a few moments before; panicked and confused. Before Tinker could even open her mouth, Ana had told her to calm down and sit, with the same cool tone she had used with me. Again, I was amazed at her ability to handle things. For a girl I presumed had grown up living a fairly okay life, she had incredible skill at taking things in without even batting an eye. Pulling out the chair next to me, Nyxie sat, glancing over at me. Our eyes met and for a second, we both stared at each other. I got the feeling, from the look in her eyes, she was trying to tell me something. Asking me to do something, maybe. But then Tinker was speaking, and we had to break the moment.

"You two look well rested! You have to, for the parade." Ahh, of course, the parade. To show off the different tributes from the different districts, before they were taken into the training center, tested, and shipped off to an Arena. "As soon as we arrive at the Capitol, I'll show you to your Stylists. After they've...made you over, you'll come out and get onto the carriages. Then the parade will begin!" She clapped her hands excitedly, smiling widely.

There was a jolt, sending everyone and everything in the cabin jumping forward slightly. As I straightened myself up again, there was a hissing sound, the same sound I had heard when the doors had shut yesterday. I turned my head to look out the window, but suddenly there was someone gripping my arm, pulling me out of my seat. "Time to go." Looking up, I saw a man I had never met, although I could tell by his uniform he worked for the Capitol. The room had filled with several of them, another one of which had taken Nyxie's arm, too. I didn't resist, knowing from experience in District Twelve that Capitol workers knew many different ways of subduing you. They lead us back to the door we had first entered in, but the moment I stepped out on the platform, I felt something similar to a blindfold put over my eyes.

"Hehe, sorry, Finn," I heard Tinker's voice giggle behind me, "It seems the first few lots of tributes tried to escape, so we can't let you see how to get in. Too bad, it's quite pretty, really." As though trying to prove a point, she describe the surroundings as we walked. Concrete slabs of pavement placed like puzzle pieces beneath our feet, patches of greenery here and there. A hall walled with glass so you could see out across the entire city, with it's skyscrapers, colorful banners and low-flying airships. She stopped once we walked into the main area of the building; I could tell, because it smelt clean and organized. That was when the blindfold was taken off. After the compulsory moment of blindness that allowed my eyes to adjust, I saw that I was standing in a large, empty room with a very high roof. It was a rectangle shape, with one short end lined with doors, and the other lined with one large, garage door. I knew what that was because I had often gone to the builder's house to steal some supplies to build shelters. He'd owned a garage, where I presumed he'd kept his tools.

"So, here we are," Ana's voice sounded behind me, coming to my side. She began to walk toward the line of doors, gesturing for me to following while still speaking, "Behind these doors are the Styling areas. Nyxie's already been led to hers. Security protocol, you see. They've tightened up since the Games were announced." We'd reached the door, and both of us halted. "Finn, I just want to ask you one thing," She said, turning to me. Her grey eyes were larger than usual, more sincere than usual. "Please promise me this, Finn. No matter what they do to you in there, how much they change about you, don't lose sight of yourself, okay?" I nodded, but she didn't seem convinced. "Promise me, Finn."

"I promise."

"Good boy," She said, opening the door, "I lost myself in the Capitol long ago. Don't you do the same." Before I could ask what she meant, I was pushed in the room, the door shut behind me. The Styling room was bright, lights shining down on me from all areas, and as I winced against them, I heard a voice. This one was female, but new to me.

"Well, if it ain't my tribute," She said, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a woman standing in front of me, looking down at a clipboard. Her hair was black with red streaks through it, a clear sign she was from the Capitol. "Finnick Everdeen, is it?" She looked up at me with hazel eyes, and I nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Finnick. My name's Crym, and welcome to Styling 101."


	10. Start Afresh

_So this is the mysterious 'Crym',_ I thought, looking her over. She certainly looked like a Stylist; her bi-colored hair was cut into rough spikes, and her dark leather outfit had the same sort of flair. She moved forward, combat boots clicking as she began to circle me. I felt strangely self-conscious as I realized I was being assessed, probably on how appealing I would be to the hordes and what could be done to make me even more so. I ran a hand through my blonde hair awkwardly, not sure if I should say or do something, or whether to stay how I was. I went with the latter.

"Alright, Mister Everdeen," She said, coming to a halt in front of me. She had closed the gap between us and now stood so near to me, I could just barely feel her breath on my face. She was a lot shorter than me, but as I looked down into her grey-green eyes, they almost seemed...crazy, in a sense. "Are you ready for the biggest make-over of _your life?_" One dark, perfectly-plucked eyebrow quirked upwards, and again I got the slight aura of insanity from her. I shrugged,

"Well, I guess. Although I've never been made over before." Crym just stared at me for a moment, eyebrow still high and eyes still wide. Then she burst into loud, warm laughter, slapping my shoulder in a friendly way.

"Aha, a joker, eh? I like you, Finnick," She grinned, stepping back, and I released a small intake of breath I hadn't known I was holding. "Come on then, Finnick-"

"You can call me Finn."

"I prefer Finnick. Come on, Finnick, let's go get you some new clothes." I didn't move, a little unsure. I was standing in a room bathed in light, in a place I had never been before. Naturally I was wary, although for what reason I wasn't sure. "Come on, lazy bones!" exclaimed Crym, grabbing my arm. I found myself being dragged behind her as she led me through yet another door, although the room I walked into this time was much smaller. Or maybe it was the same size. I couldn't tell due to the fact it was filled to the brink with _clothes. _Shirts, ties, pants, dresses, shoes, skirts and anything else you could possibly wear. There was everything in there, from the simplest to the grandest, the sparkly to the plain. It made my pathetic, twelfth-hand clothing look like kitchen rags.

"Ooooh, he's here!"

"Yayy! Make-over time!"

"Let's get this boy dressed!"

Almost as soon as I walked in, these voices traveled through the rows upon rows of clothing. A moment later, a man and two women stood in front of us, grins on their faces. Crym took a step toward them, smiling, "Finnick, I would like you to meet your Styling team. Styling team, meet Finnick Everdeen."

"Nice to meet you, Finnick!" The tall, lanky male with pale blonde hair greeted, grin widening. He only looked a year or two older than myself - probably the same age as Gaia - but the clarity of his skin and quality of his look told me he had lived a much softer life.

A dark-skinned woman stepped forward next, raking her eyes up and down me in a not-so-subtle way. "Damn boy, you good looking," She commented frankly, and I felt my cheeks go hot. In a way, this woman looked like an older version of Dina. Her chunky figure and bleached-blonde hair, however, told me differently.

"You two have no manners," The final girl scolded them playfully. She looked older than the other two, who were still quite young, but despite the small lines in her face she was pretty, with deep brown hair and electric green eyes. I wasn't entirely sure if that last feature was real, though. "I'm Gloria," She introduced herself, then gestured to the other two, "And this is Lafayette and Delaware."

"I prefer to be called Dellie."

"And I'm Laffy." Delaware and Lafayette cut in, before being dragged back into place at her side by Gloria. I grinned at them.

"As long as you don't mind just calling me Finn, I'm fine with whatever nickname you have." Their grins somehow widened even more, and I felt my spirits being lifted a little. They were so bright, so energetic, so...innocent. I was reminded of Tinker Finkel and how oblivious she was to the world outside the Capitol. My morale went down a little again.

"Alright, alright, enough with the introductions," interrupted Crym, "We've got a make-over to do, don't we? You three have seen the design I came up with; go get some material and get to work." They nodded abruptly, rushing off to follow her instructions. The Stylist then turned to me, "And you'll be coming with me. That hair? Absolutely horrible."

"Hey! I like my hair."

"I've never seen a scruffier 'do in my life," She said, laughing lightly as I pulled at my hair self-consciously. I really hadn't thought it was that bad...I had certainly seen worse back home. But it mustn't have been up to standard for the Capitol, because before I knew it, I was sat in a chair, the snip-snip of scissors ringing in my ears. I watched several blonde locks fall to the ground, but not as many as I thought I would see. "Girls in the Capitol like long hair," Crym explained, almost reading my mind, "It's seems to be the new trend." She didn't sound too approving of it herself, but nevertheless kept my hair at it's previous length, around my jaw. However it did have a significant amount of style in it after she was done, although the only difference I felt was the fact it no longer fell in my eyes as much.

After cutting my hair, she then proceeded to do a collection of things which to me, really didn't matter. Wiping my face and putting some weird powder on it, which I immediately tried to wipe off again. That earned me a smack on the back of my hand. Then she started plucking my eyebrows, which I winced and whined my way through. I got the feeling Crym was starting to lose her patience after I knocked the pen she was using to line my eyes out of her hand for the fifth time ("Good, I just finished anyway"), but just then Laffy, Dellie and Gloria happened to burst in. They were bustling, arms filled with dark fabric.

"Great, you three are here!" called Crym over the noise of their clumsy steps, moving to help them set down the clothes. Unfortunately, it was at that moment the three Stylists happened to see me, and dropped everything they were carry - right on Crym's head, may I add.

"Oh my god."

"Finn! You look amazing!"

"You're just...wow!"

They rushed toward me, eyes wide and in my face as they ran their hands over my hair, cheeks, eyebrows, anywhere they thought a change had happened. I wasn't used to this much attention, let alone physical contact, so I was thankful when Crym announced, "Alright guys, back off! You'll ruin all my hard-fought for work. And I mean that literally," She pushed through them, staring at me for a second, obviously checking to see if anything had been messed up. Satisfied it all still looked decent, she pulled me roughly out of my seat, turning to the Stylist team.

"I'm going to warn you now, Finn. These three are the most precise group of fasionista's I have ever met. They're all perfectionists, every last one of them. They won't stop until you look perfect. So keep your patience, okay?" She slapped my arm again, although this time it seemed to be more for motivation, and the three took my arms, dragging me back into the first, light-bathed room.

A moment later, as I was being stripped of my torn and patched clothes and being scolded in the horrible state I was in, I realized Crym hadn't been kidding. I should have been ready for the biggest make-over of my life.


	11. For Better Or For Worse

"That's ridiculous! You just can't put those two colors together!"

"I know! That's what I told her."

"Well, you know, it might not be that bad if you just add in a little yellow..."

I idly listened to Gloria, Laffy and Dellie gossip as they fitted me, pulling at different parts of my clothes for what seemed like no reason whatsoever. I trusted them, though. Somehow they had managed to create clothes that fitted me perfectly - where they got the measurements, I don't want to know - and although they had followed Crym's designs, they had done a remarkably good job in a small amount of time. Of course, they could have had it pre-made before I even arrived, but by the way they had been talking, this had been a recent creation.

A creation it was, too. When it had just been a bundle of fabric, I hadn't thought much of it. But now that I saw it in full, or at least on _me_, I had to give them some credit; it definitely looked amazing. I had expected a tight, uncomfortable suit of some kind. Not a black button-down that, when the light hit it, faintly glinted with flame designs. Or a burning red tie with the same fire pattern, except much clearer. Only my simple black shoes lacked some fiery feature - even the legs on my pants had the same glinting design the shirt did. What really got me, though, was the two feathers they had glued to the cuffs of my shirt. Crimson red, with a splash of white. They reminded me of something, maybe a bird or it's feather I had seen back home, but I couldn't figure out what.

"Yes!" I heard the door open behind me, and Crym's recognizable footsteps as she ran over to us. Almost immediately the three others around me stepped back, allowing the superior Stylist to see me in full. "Yes, yes, yes! This is perfect!" She stood in front of me, looking over my body for what felt the the thousandth time today. She pulled my collar out a little, and I twitched. She smirked at me, "So, has he been behaving for you three? No nasty words, physical violence?"

"Nope," The others replied in unison, much to my relief. Not that I had been nasty or anything. Maybe a bit reluctant, but for the most part, I had let them get on with whatever they were doing.

"Brilliant," She patted my head, as though praising a dog, although for me she had to get on her tip-toes to do so. "You're going to need to work on that attitude of yours, if you want the crowds to like you."

"What attitude?"

"The attitude you used when you knocked the eyeliner pen out of my hand. Or when you back-chatted Ms. Oh-so-perfect Finkel back in District Twelve." I looked at her, surprised. I hadn't thought they would know about that. In fact, I hadn't expected the Capitol to broadcast it - after all, it was a clear breach of rules. Don't challenge the government. Still, it had been live, so I suppose they hadn't had a choice.

"Yes, we do know about that," She said, while waving off Dellie, Laffy and Gloria. The three exited quietly, but shot me excited grins and reassuring thumbs ups' behind Crym's back. I shot them a small smile back, before returning my attention to my Stylist, who had suddenly gotten very close. "I also happen to know who you are, Finnick Everdeen."

"But didn't you already-"

"Not like that, dumbass! Your history," My stomach dropped when she said that, heart beat growing louder. "Your parents - Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. I'm not an idiot, Finnick. I do know my history."

"Look," I growled, the defensive side I had developed after the Overthrow kicking in, "I know you're supposed to prepare me for this, but can you please leave my parents out of it? They're gone. Done."

"But they're not," She retorted, eyes serious, "They're not done. No matter what happens to them, what has happened to them, they're still war heroes. The government may try to hide them, but they're still there, written in the history books. Everdeen and Mellark, Katniss and Peeta."

"I said leave them out of it!"

"But _they're _not going to leave them out of it, are they?!" Both our voices had grown in volume now, and I felt anger beginning to bubble beneath my skin. "Your sister. She's Primrose, isn't she? Primrose Mellark. She's the one who started this, made you live the life you have. Made you, and many others, suffer. And let me tell you this, Finnick: She knows it. So there is no way in hell she's going to leave that out of the Games, when it's possibly your biggest weakness." I opened my mouth to spit something back, but I couldn't. She was right. It was just like Gaia had said: She knew what to expect from me, what my weaknesses were. She knew _me_, plain and simple. In order to beat her, I had to do what she didn't expect.

Crym stepped back, gesturing at me with her hands. "Alright, Finnick," She said, as though nothing had happened, "You're about as ready as you'll ever be." Sighing, she rubbed a hand through her spikes, then looked at me through her fingers. "Well, what are you waiting for?! Go out and hit 'em, boy! Not literally, though."

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I felt like I should say something. "Thanks, Crym," I blurted out, eventually.

She smirked, "No problem."

"And thank Gloria, Dellie and Laffy, too."

"I will."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Turning, I walked toward the first door I had come through, reaching for the handle. I knew that the moment I stepped out of there, my life would change forever. For better or for worse, I wasn't sure. It could be either. For a moment, I considered running, but I knew that would be foolish. There were way too many people around, and besides, even if I did run, I had no idea where to go. The blind-folding thing was a good idea.

I took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped out into my new life.


	12. Promise Me

"Finn!"

Tinker cried as soon as she spotted me over the growing number of heads. The previously empty room was not only filling with people - who I presumed were tributes, escorts and Capitol workers - but there were also thirteen vintage carriages, each pulled by two pure black horses. I presumed they were there to pull us for the parade. "Finn!" repeated my escort, grabbing my arm. To my great surprise, she intertwined her fingers with mine, dragging me through the crowd. I would have pulled away, had she not been speaking to me in such a fast tone I had to concentrate to keep up,

"Finally, you're done. Did they have to do more work on you? Nyxie's been out for about a minute," I was going to inform her of my little conversation with Crym, but she didn't give me a chance, "As you can see, the place is really filling up now. All these people are part of the parade; some of them you'll even see in the Arena. But there's no time to think about that, now. Did I mention you look absolutely gorgeous? Don't ruin that, please. The Capitol are going to love you," She grinned breathlessly up at me, pulling us to a stop.

Looking up from her face, I spotted Nyxie leaning against a wall, a less than euphoric expression on her face. If I had thought the Stylists did a good job on me, they had done an absolutely amazing job on her. The dirty, rough-edged girl I had known back home was completely gone - instead, she had been replaced with a real beauty. They had somehow managed to make her silver-blonde hair gleam even more than usual, two long plaits hanging by each side of her face while the back stayed long. Her dark gothic make-up made her royal blue eyes smolder like the fiery coals District Twelve had once been known for, before the mines were blown up in the war my very parents fought in. Or maybe it wasn't the make-up; maybe it was the general displeasure she was taking from this moment. Although her dress, tight and short and glimmering with the same fiery patterns as my outfit, looked gorgeous on her, the way she stood, defensive and tough in some way, made it seem for nothing. _"You're going to need to work on that attitude of yours, if you want the crowds to like you."_

"I'll leave you two to it, then," Tinker said, pushing me toward my fellow tribute, "I have other matters to sort out." With that, the redhead was gone, merely a bright flash in the crowd somewhere else. Turning to Nyxie, I rubbed my head awkwardly, trying to think of something to say.

"Umm, hey-" I was cut off by a flash of searing white pain as she bought her palm up to my face, slapping me hard across the cheek. The world spun for a moment, my eyes going unfocused. Shaking my head, I bought a hand to my now tender cheek, feeling the heat beneath my fingers as it throbbed slightly. "What was that for-"

"You idiot!" Once again, Nyxie cut me off, although thankfully not by violence this time, "Four years, not a word, and now you come up to me as though nothing has happened? As though no time has passed?" She deepened her voice, imitating me, "'Oh hi, Nyxie. Good to see you again. Sorry I haven't talked to you in _over four years.'_ You could have been dead, for all I knew!"

"But I'm not, am I?!" I relayed, voice growing into a yell for the second time that day, "So get over yourself and just be nice, okay?! Or at least stop making trouble!"

"Trouble?!"

"Yes! Which is exactly what you're making now!" She opened her mouth to retort, but both of us suddenly noticed that the people around us had stopped moving and talking, instead staring at us arguing. Her olive cheeks, even under her make-up, when a pale pink color. Stepping forward, she grabbed my hand, dragging me through the starers and over to one of the carriages, out of their sight.

"Finn, I saved your life. And then you just-"

"Yes, you saved my life. Yes, I am eternally grateful for that. But I'm not as helpless as I was back then, Nyxie! I can look after myself, now. I'm standing here, aren't I? I don't need your help." A second after I said that, I realized it was a little harsh. Taking a step back, I gave in, softening my tone, "But believe me, Nyxie. No matter what, I'm always going to be thankful."

"We're going into the Hunger Games together, Finn. How can you be-"

"I'm baaaack!" Tinker's irritating voice broke in, the fiery haired woman appearing behind Nyxie. She looked at us, taking in the expressions on our faces, and frowned for a moment. before clearly brushing it off and continuing with what she was going to say. "So, are you two ready? The parade's about to begin. The other tributes are just getting on..." Tinker paused, getting onto the tips of her toes to look over the many heads, "...now," She finished, dropping back to her normal height. "Which means you two should, too. Here, this one will do. Up, up you go," She began to usher us on, pushing forward so we had no choice but to get onto the carriage.

Despite being slightly rickety, standing on top of the carriage was quite something. Looking down from the high vantage point, I saw many different people milling around down below, at least half of them with strangely colored hair of red, blue, yellow, green, nearly every color of the rainbow. In front of us, the horses rigged to the carriages snorted and tossed their heads, their annoyance becoming more noticeable by the minute. _Only a few more minutes now, _I thought, more for myself than for the horses. With a shake and a rattle, Nyxie climbed up next to me, tossing her braids over her shoulder as she did so.

"Ready?" She asked, voice quieter than before.

I nodded. "What about you?" She nodded too, and I turned my gaze forward again. "Good," I breathed.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"I really don't want to kill you." I looked at her again in surprise, not expecting her innocent tone.

"Well, I don't really want to kill you either."

"Can you promise me something?"

"What?"

"We don't kill each other unless it's just us left. No matter what."

"Okay, that sound's good."

"I'm not kidding, Finn," She looked up at me, eyes serious beneath the eyeshadow, "No matter what situation we're in, or what it may put us in, we don't kill each other. That means both you and I. Promise?"

"Promise."

"Say it like you mean it."

"I promise, okay?!"

"Good."

Looks like I had a lot of promises to keep.


	13. Parade Marchers

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we present to you...the tributes of the 76th Hunger Games!"

A loud, booming voice echoed around the room. The large door in front of us began to open, sliding higher and higher, letting in light bit by bit. The previously bustling group of people had gone silent, stepping away from the carriages. There was no point in talking, anyways; I could barely hear myself think over the roar of the crowd outside. Taking a deep breath, I ran a hand through my newly cut hair, smoothing it back. I wasn't sure why. The doors in front of us had now reached the halfway point and, in perfect unison, the horses set off, their pace a steady trot. I had expected the carriages to feel wobbly and unbalanced when they moved, but they were surprisingly smooth. Nyxie and I watched as, one by one, eleven carriages disappeared into the light ahead of us, swallowed by the blinding white. We were the penultimate carriage. Squinting my eyes a little, I braced myself for the crowd as the horses trotted through the door, taking us with them.

We emerged onto a long, flat and straight road. Around us, people cheered, screamed, shouted, clapped. The majority of them were on the ground, held back only by portable chain-link fences, but I saw several hanging precariously off buildings, or leaning out of windows. The whole city had turned up, it seemed; men, women, children, even babies. It was like some huge celebration. _A celebration of twenty-three kids going off to die, _I thought bitterly, almost disgusted by the enthusiasm of the people around me. Either they were terribly mislead, or incredibly oblivious. Probably a little of both._  
_

At first, I didn't do anything. I didn't smile, wave, or even turn to look at people in the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nyxie wasn't, either. Why pretend to be enjoying this when I really wasn't? I wasn't going to act happy just for the pleasure of the Capitol. Then I remembered what Crym had said about my attitude. I was the underdog in this competition; every odd was against me, literally. I needed all the help I could get, and surely Nyxie could use some too. "Act happy," I whispered to her, nudging her in the ribs. She shot me a disbelieving and almost disgusted look, but I ignored it. "Just act friendly, okay?" She rolled her eyes, but reluctantly turned to the crowd.

Doing the same, I flashed the biggest, most convincing grin I could at the crowd. The increased roar from those in the immediate area was almost instant. That was only the beginning - I ended up putting on the whole charade for them. Waving, smiling, cheering. I even hugged Nyxie at one point, which really got them going. She was doing a great job, too. She had thrown away her normally snarling attitude and thundering face for a cheery, friendly and, dare I say, peppy act. It was as though up there, we were two different people. What with the make-up and fancy clothes, we practically were.

Had the Games changed me that much already?

_It's just an act, _I reminded myself. The parade was beginning to draw to a close. I could see the huge training center appearing, a large, round silhouette against the darkening sky. I knew we had to end with something big, and fast. There was a good chance a lot of the people in the crowd would donate. But that wasn't enough. What with Primrose having the ability to manipulate the games so much, I needed more than just a good chance. I needed a guarantee. "Nyxie, we have to do something big," I whispered to her, still smiling and waving to the crowd.

"I know."

"So what should we do? Jump off the carriage or something?"

"No, no, just let me think..."

"We don't have much time, Nyx-"

"Kiss me," She said suddenly, turning to me. I nearly did a double-take,

"What?! No, I can't. That's crazy."

Her blue eyes rolled again, "It worked for your parents, didn't it?!" I froze at the mention of my parents, but she didn't let me get away with that. "Hurry up, idiot! Are you going to kiss me, or what?" I considered not doing what she said, and just continue with what I was doing. It was easy enough, to just rely on the interviews and that chance. It would've been enough for any other tribute, under any other circumstances. This was me, though. Finnick Everdeen, with the maniac sister and missing in action parents.

So I kissed her.

If I had waited a moment longer, it would've been too late. The carriage in front of us was just being pulled into the training center when I pulled her in, pressing my lips against hers. It was only the second time I had ever kissed a girl, and the first time I had initiated it. The crowd loved it; I could tell by their whistles and hoots, screams and claps. The chance had grown for sure. I didn't pull away until the shadow of the training center was over us, knowing that while we were in the open, every camera in the Capitol would be trained on us, broadcasting our picture to every television and big screen in Panem. The second we were inside, though, we both pulled away, sucking in air. Admittedly, neither of us had a lovey-dovey expression on our faces - she looked breathless and over it already. I imagined I looked similar, considering that was how I felt.

The room we had been pulled in to looked exactly like the one we had left. As soon as the carriage stopped, I jumped down, skipping a step or two. I was thankful to have solid, un-moving ground beneath my feet again. Thankful to be able to act myself again, not some crowd-working celebrity. Or some manipulative contestant in a murderous game, trying to improve his odds. Both of which I was, but it was easier to convince myself I wasn't out of the public eye. Nyxie jumped down beside me, heeled boots clicking on the concrete. Looking around, the room was empty except for us and the other tributes, who were currently milling around their carriages. Behind us stood the District Thirteen tributes in their typical pale-skinned, sullen manner. The District Eleven tributes were ahead of us, and I was struck by how alike to Dina they looked; if she had been here, she would have been able to blend in with them easily.

"Finn! Nyxie!" A nearby door opened to release the thirteen escorts into the room, and I recognize Tinker's voice immediately. She ran up to us, red in the face and breathing heavily. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Tell you what?" Nyxie asked, raising an eyebrow at the state she was in.

"What you two did out there! The kiss!"

Understanding washed over me, "Ohh, that. Sorry for not telling you, Tinker. It was kind of a last minute thing..."

"Don't be sorry! That was perfect! The crowd absolutely loves you!" She grinned up at us and, despite ourselves, Nyxie and I grinned back. Our plan had worked. "Oh, but, ermm, I'm not here to talk to you about that. I'm here to take you to Ana. She wants to talk to you both..." She trailed off, glancing behind her. "Ah! There! You see that door over there?"

Nyxie and I glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"That's an elevator. Go in it, and hit button twelve. That'll take you to Ana. Good luck!" With that, we found ourselves being pushed towards the door in typical Tinker manner. She never let us ask questions, or even get our heads around the situation.

"So...uhh, this is an elevator?" Nyxie asked me as we reached the door, which was actually two doors put together. They slid open as we stepped up to them.

"I guess so," I answered. Glancing over at her, I saw the confused and slightly wary look on her face. "Hey, we survived that machine that took us here. This is a whole lot smaller. It should be no problem."

"Yeah, _should be,_" She grumbled, but climbed in anyway. I followed, and so did two others. I recognized them as the tributes from District Thirteen.

"Uh, hi?" I greeted awkwardly, Nyxie hitting button number twelve as I did so. It lit up, as did the 'thirteen' button when the District Thirteen male hit it. The doors slid to a shut and there was a rushing sensation, as though we were moving upwards. It made us all jump a little.

The girl looked up at me with bored, dark eyes. They reminded me of Nyxie's. "Hey." As she spoke, I looked down at their get-up. It was tight, for sure, and black, with neon green accents here and there. I supposed that was supposed to relate to nuclear bombs. That was what their District produced. I bought my eyes back up to the girl's eyes - which were rimmed with black and green eyeshadow - as she spoke again, "You are?"

"Finnick Everdeen. District Twelve. You?"

"Helena Shydoe. District Thirteen." I nodded, then gestured to the male, "You?"

"Jaxx Caiten," He replied, tone slightly icy, "You might as well tell us the name of that chick now, too."

"My name is Nyxie Nightingale," answered Nyxie, narrowing her eyes at him, "And I can answer for myself, thank you very much." With a jolt, which I presumed was the elevator stopping, the doors slid open again, an electronic-sounding female voice informing us this was 'Floor Twelve'.

"Well, I guess we'll be seeing each other soon," Helena said, and I nodded.

"Come on, Finn!" I heard Nyxie yell, and looking over my shoulder, I saw her already down the other end of the hall, by the door.

"I'm coming!" I called back. "Bye, Helena."

"Bye, Finn. Oh, and by the way," She added, "If we don't see each other before the Games begin, good luck in the Arena. You should be good competition."

"You too," I replied, the doors sliding to a shut as I did. Just before they did, though, I managed to catch a ghost of a smile on her lips. I decided I liked her.

"Finn!"

"Coming!"


	14. Stabbing Is Easier In Close Range

_"How could you, Prim?! How?! You know what mom and dad fought for. You know what they went through for peace. So you go and tear it down?!"_

_"Mom and Dad aren't here anymore, Finn! You saw me take them away yourself."_

_"They're not dead though, are they? I didn't see that!"_

_"They may not be dead, but they're not here."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?!"_

_"Forget about them, Finn."_

_"No! I won't! Give them back! Give my freedom back!"_

_"Arrest him!"_

I sat upright in bed with a jolt, soaked with sweat and breathing heavily. My wide eyes spun around maniacally, trying to pick out familiar shapes through the darkness of the room. It took me a moment to remember where I was; in my room, in the training center, in the Capitol. Relaxing a little, I ran a shaky hand through my hair. It had just been a dream, despite the panic it got me worked up in. Could you really call it a dream, though? It had actually happened, after all. Six years ago now, but I still remembered it vividly. That was obvious enough, although why it had returned to me just now as a dream, I wasn't sure.

Lying back against my pillow, I stared up at the ceiling. What Ana had told Nyxie and I yesterday came back to me, her voice echoing in my head.

_"Tomorrow, you two are going to go into training. Weapons, plants, traps, you're going to learn how to use all of them. After a week, you'll be tested on your knowledge of them, plus your overall ability. At some point - I think it's the fourth day - you'll have your interviews. Do what you did at the parade today, and you'll do fine. That was awesome, by the way. But for now, concentrate on working as hard as you can. Train until your muscles and mind feel like they're going to burst. That's the only way you'll go in with an advantage. You two are the weakest among the tributes - don't look at me like that, Nyxie, it's no surprise. You have to work harder. And don't let anything, or anyone, distract you. Just don't, okay?"_

I knew what she meant by distraction. Anything that might keep us from giving our all in both the training and the games. That meant our past, too. I couldn't let Primrose and her looming cloud of unpredictability distract me from doing what I had to do. After all, I had promises to keep; to Gaia, to Nyxie, and no doubt to more people as they came. I wasn't just doing this for myself, I realized. The thing that startled me the most, however, was that I didn't want to let them down. None of them, whether I had known them for four years or forty minutes. Before, I hadn't cared, mainly because the only crucial thing in my life was myself. Now I had more to live for, a more essential role.

For the first time in six years, I was important.

Getting to my feet, I began the morning's routine. Technically, we weren't allowed out of our rooms until six - that was when the first shift of guards arrived - but I figured I might as well get it done early. Before I had gone to bed, Tinker had informed me of what I had to do to keep myself in 'decent condition'; shower every morning, brush my teeth every morning and brush my hair every morning, something I hadn't done since...I couldn't remember when. Apparently having knots in your hair wasn't seen as 'attractive'.

The morning bell rang just as I finished with the comb, the locks on my door making a soft click sound as they were released. I slipped on my dark, Capitol issued jacket - to go with the white shirt, tan trousers and combat boots - and grabbed the map of the building, locating the eating room. I wasn't hungry, not as much as I had been in the past, but that was where we had been told to meet the previous evening. Something about our weekly schedule.

"Hey, watch it!" A familiar voice snapped as I stepped out, straight into a shorter person. Looking down, I realized it was Nyxie. I should've expected it - after all, who else would be up at this time but another District Twelve citizen? "Oh, sorry, Finn. I didn't realize it was you," She apologized and I smirked.

"Of course, because every apology you give is so heartfelt and meaningful," She raised an eyebrow at me, and my smirk grew into a goofy grin. We both turned and began to amble down the hall, towards the door which led to the staircase. We could always take the elevator but to be honest, I hadn't quite gotten used to that, and I got the feeling neither had Nyxie. "So, you're up early too, huh?" I asked, opening the door to the stairs.

"Yeah. I, uh, couldn't sleep," She replied as we descended.

"Nightmare?"

"You too?"

"Uh-huh." We walked through a large, arched opening, the warm smells of food drifting toward me. I still hadn't gotten used to the idea of that yet; warm, fresh food when I wanted it. I didn't have to beg or steal or fight. I just had to ask. It was...crazy, to me. As we walked through a large room opened in front of us, with one large, wooden dining table to the right. It was set for twenty four, unsurprisingly. On the right side was a large - and I mean _large_ - kitchen, set along the wall. There was a group of about ten or so people working there right now, bustling about from stove to sink to fridge to counter. I felt tempted to ask if I could help, anything to pay them back for all the wonderful food, but a familiar, high-pitched voice interrupted the thought.

"Nyxie! Finn! Over here!" called Tinker Finkel, using unnecessarily large waves to attract our attention. I could almost feel Nyxie's eyes rolling. Nevertheless, we went and sat next to her, trying to look pleased in some way to see her. She went through the usual conversation with us - "Did you sleep well?" and "Good, good." - before getting into what we actually wanted to know. Our schedule. "So, today, all you're going to have is training. Eat, sleep, train, shower. That's what it's going to be like for the next three days, actually. On the fourth day, you'll only have half the time you'll usually have, because that's the night of the interviews. You'll be given brand new outfits, all that. After the interviews, it'll go back to normal, until the last day. That's when you'll be tested and then sent to the arena," She finished her explanation, flashing us a smile, "Exciting, isn't it?"

"Not reall-" There was a buzz of chatter, and the other twenty-two tributes walked in. Some of them were laughing and chatting with each other, as though they were old friends at a get together. How they were doing that, I didn't know. _Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,_ I remembered the old saying, and wondered if that's what they were doing. Most likely. The ones who weren't, though, walked alongside them stiffly and silently. That was more like what I would do, if I had been in their position. Keeping your enemies close is all good and fine, until they stab you in the back.

There was one major thing I noticed as they walked in. Judging by Nyxie's face, she had seen it too. Looking at them, I could tell I was probably one of the tallest, if not the tallest. But I certainly wasn't the strongest. Because these tributes...

Well, they were freaking huge.


	15. Differences And Similarities

For some reason, I had expected the majority of the tributes to look how Jaxx and Helena had: slim, but with good muscle tone nonetheless. Of course I had known they wouldn't all be the same, with varying heights and sizes, but I hadn't thought they would be so drastically different. Over half of the guys looked as though they could have been related to a boulder or something, rock-hard muscles practically jumping out of their arms. Even some of the girls were like that. It's not that I hadn't expected to see some crazily muscled types - District Twelve was probably the poorest District - but I hadn't expected them to be _this _big, or there to be this many. To be honest, it scared me. Because in a week's time, those people would be focused on killing me.

"Oooh, the others are here," Tinker said, voice quieter than usual. Or maybe it just sounded that way due to the chatter, "I should go now. But remember what I said, you two! Train lots and lots and lots! Oh, and what Ana said, too," She added with a smile, before getting up and basically skipping out, red-hair bouncing as she did so. The two of us looked at each other, sharing a mutual feeling of nervousness, before turning back to the group of tributes, who were now sitting down at the table.

"Oh, are you two the District Twelve tributes?"

"You're not very big, are you?"

"Why'd you have to hog all the spotlight at the Parade yesterday, huh?"

"Oh, the District Twelve _lovebirds._"

These were the kind of questions and comments we found ourselves bombarded with. They slowly began to get worse, too. It seemed that the other tributes, especially those from One, Two and Four, weren't exactly too happy with our show at the Parade. I thought it was weird, how possessive they were over the Capitol's attention. I couldn't really care less about it; I was just using it to give me an advantage. As tribute after tribute queried and sneered insults at us, I found myself doing less and less talking as Nyxie took over, her venomous tone taking them by surprise, clearly. As she warded them off, I began to take note of each tribute and their characteristics, looking at what number was embroidered on their shirt to tell what District they were.

The Tributes from District One were probably the largest. That made sense, since they were closest to the Capitol. The male tribute was large and chubby, with short blonde blonde hair that grew like grass on the top of his head. His eyes were blue, like the female tribute's. She was thinner and shorter, but with the same creamy skin and blonde hair, which fell down to the small of her back. They could have been twins, if the girl didn't have so much more maturity in her face than the male. Either way, the male still looked like he could knock me over with a flick of the finger and the girl's lean arm muscles said the same.

The District Two tributes were similar to that of District One's when it came to their build. The male, however, was taller and thinner, but the size of his muscles made up for that. His hair was dark and spiky, his skin tan. His female counterpart, again, looked similar, but with leaner muscles rather than bulky ones. Their eyes were both a dark, dangerous green, and I made a mental note to try and stay out of their way.

To my surprise, the District Three tributes weren't so large. If anything, they were more like Nyxie and I. The male was tall and lanky, with mousy brown brown hair and hazel eyes. He was one of the quieter ones; the look on his face told me he was bored. The girl next to him was tall, too, and slim, with light blonde hair and the same eyes as him. Whichever way you looked at them, one thing was undeniable; the intelligence in their eyes. Surely they would make good allies.

The tributes from District Four were polar opposites, by the looks of them. The male was tense and silent, but under his auburn hair I could see the danger in his dark eyes. His muscles were fairly obvious, too, despite being smaller than those of One and Two's tributes. The girl was truly different, though. She was the loudest at the table, bouncing around in her seat, constantly excited. She made a lot of physical contact, too - hugged and grabbing people arms and hands seemed to be a habit of hers. She looked different from everyone else, too. Her hair was a soft orange color and was kind of crazy, sticking out at places. Her skin was paler than her partner's, and she was a whole lot chubbier too. But what really made me stop and stare was her eyes; the largest I had probably ever seen, and a clear blue color. They were like something out of a storybook or something.

The two District Five tributes were both redheads, bordering on auburn. Like District One's tributes, they could have been twins, but even more so. They were both short and stocky, but with a bulk of muscle throughout their bodies. Their skin was olive, their eyes hazel. By the way their eyesbrows arched at times and sneaky smirks crossed their faces, I got the feeling these two would be ones to watch. They were mischievous.

There wasn't much to worry about with the District Six tributes. They almost looked...sunken, really. Their skin had an unhealthy yellow tinge to it, their cheek bones sharp along with many other points in their bodies. They were both brunettes, but the male had green eyes, while the girl had grey. I couldn't help thinking that they weren't going to last very long - the way their hands shook even while they were sitting, along with the lack of muscle, told me so.

The District Seven and the District Eight tributes looked similar. Scarily so. They were all tan, with small, skinny bodies, but lean muscles nevertheless. The District Seven contestants, however, had lighter, almost auburn brown hair and eyes to match, while those from District Eight had darker, almost black hair, and hazel eyes. They didn't seem to like each other very much, either; one group of tributes kept flashing nasty glances at the other from across the table.

The District Nine tributes didn't worry me. In fact, they almost looked like children compared to the others. Short, skinny and lacking muscle, the two blonde, hazel-eyed teens almost looked like they could be blown away in the wind. They, along with the District Six tributes, would be nothing for the larger ones to fret about.

The two from District Ten, the livestock District, looked as large as cows themselves. Big, bulky and muscled, they sat nearest to us than the others. Sitting near them made me feel dwarfed, despite being taller than both of them. Their size made up for that, even the female. With dark, beady eyes and dull brown hair, I was reminded of the rats I would see running around back home. They acted like the rats, too.

I found a smile almost creeping across my face when I looked at the District Eleven tributes. They were so like Dina; I had never quite realized how alike she looked to her parents, the immigrants from that very District. Dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair. Small, skinny, but with an incredibly agile look about them. Their faces, like her's, were round and youthful, but I knew from experience they had the ability to look dangerous when they wanted to. They weren't afraid to use that ability, either. I knew for certain that if I had to choose allies, they would be my first choice.

My eyes eventually found their way to Helena and Jaxx from Thirteen. They saw me glance at them, and while Jaxx scowled and looked away, Helena smirked at me. "Finnick Everdeen. Good to see you again," She said to me, ignoring the District Ten tributes.

"You too."

"Interesting display you two put on at the parade last night. I watched it this morning."

"Ah, yeah, that."

"Mmmhmm," She nodded, then got to her feet. Walking over to my seat, she leaned down, saying to me in a low voice, "I've decided something, though. You're a hell of a lot smarter than you look." Her smirk grew, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Then she returned to her seat, as though nothing had happened. Our conversation would have continued, had the kitchen workers not begun to set down plates and dishes in front of us, telling us to "Eat up". They set down plates of eggs, bacon, toast, whatever they considered breakfast. Some of the food I hadn't even seen before, but some of the others obviously had. I mentally groaned, remembering how uncomfortable I had felt last time I had eaten rich food like this.

I decided then and there I was _never _going to get used to Capitol food. Although it couldn't hurt to try.


	16. Red Rose

"The hall will be divided into six different areas, one for each skill you can train in."

Our footsteps echoed as we followed our guide, Mako, toward the training hall. Since we met up with him after breakfast, he had been talking non-stop. He was part of the judging committee we would perform for at the end of the week, but after he told us that I faded out, retreating into my own thoughts for a while. Only now did my attention turn on him again, my ears once again picking up his voice as he explained the training to us.

"Use of weapons, herbs and survival resources," said the ginger haired man, "Those are the first three. Then, further back, there's camouflage, weapons making and the recognition of flora and fauna. Plants and animals," He added, hearing the murmur of confusion at the final one. A door appeared ahead of us, our pace picking up as each of us in turn spotted it. There had been a feeling of anticipation throughout breakfast, each and every one of us eager to begin. Some more than others, perhaps, but as Mako began to turn the door handle, even I felt some excitement rush into my limbs, giving me and extra burst of energy. The door opened and before he could even move out of the way to let us in, we were pushing through.

We burst out the other side into a large, circular room. Sunlight filtered in through the windows set in the roof, giving me a glimpse of eggshell blue sky and lighting up the pale yellow walls. On the ground, it as exactly as Mako had described it: six different areas all converging in the middle to make what I presumed was a practice area. Most likely for weapons. There was a sense of collective awe as we took in what was in front of us. The different plants, weapons, colors, smells. Someone behind me let out a low wolf-whistle, setting off a round of giggles from someone beside me. I think it was the orange-haired District Four girl.

We began to split up, each of us going to our preferred station. I wasn't really sure which to go to; the only experience I had in fighting was with my fists, and that wasn't much. Eventually, I just decided to follow the District Five girl over toward the weapons. The District One, Two and Ten tributes were already there, practicing with the assortment of arms. I just stood and watched for a while, not sure which I should choose. The District Five girl - I had nicknamed her 'Red' - was incredibly good with the throwing knives, I noticed, and the boy from District One was so good at swinging those clubs, it was almost scary. The District One, Two and Ten girls were fairly good all-rounders, but definitely better with the lightweight weapons. At one point, the boys from Districts Two and Ten picked up some shotguns - I hadn't noticed them before - and shot at the wall, but Mako quickly strode over and had a conversation with them about that. The looks on the others' faces as the shots rang out were hilarious, though.

After ten or so minutes of trying the different weapons, I had mentally given up on them. I had tried the knives; no good, I nearly hit the District Two boy in the neck. I could barely pick up the clubs and despite my mother's famous ability with it, archery wasn't my thing either. Not even a trident-like weapon suited me, something I discovered after nearly concussing myself. Biting my lip, I decided to move on, not daring to even _think _about trying the guns. I joined the District Four girl and the two District Three tributes at the weapons making station, grabbing some rope and sitting down. There were several diagrams stuck on the wall; how to make snares, cross-bows, hammers, all that. Within minutes, I had a fairly good snare going. The knot-tying, however, I wasn't so good at. As my knot untied itself for the sixteenth time, I heard a giggle behind me.

"Something funny?" I asked, looking behind me at the orange-haired girl. She shook her head, but the smile on her face gave her away.

"It's your knots. They're silly," She said, lightly giggling again. Resting back on my heels, I gestured to the snare.

"You try, then." She hesitated for a moment, then leaned in, grabbing the rope. I watched in awe as her fingers moved skillfully, tying what would have taken me minutes in only a few moments. Moving back again, she grinned proudly up at me.

"There! Done," Her eyes twinkled, but then became confused as she saw the expression on my face. "What? Did I break it or something?"

"No, no, it's perfect," I reassured her, still staring at the knot. "Show me how you did that," I demanded after a moment, voice abrupt. She looked surprised.

"O-okay. You just grab it like this, then do this..."

It took me what felt like an hour, but soon enough I could tie a knot just like her, although not as fast. As we had worked, she had talked to me, introducing herself as Phoenix Hailstone. The name was so appropriate - her hair did indeed look like the color of a phoenix. I told her this, and she laughed the most pleasant laugh I had ever heard, throwing her head back like a child. It made me wonder why Primrose chose a girl like her, who looked so innocent and acted just the same. Maybe it was another move in her cruel game. Mix weak contestants who have absolutely no chance in with gigantic, boulder-like tributes. In return, I told her a little about myself, although not enough that she could use it against me.

"Finnick?" repeated Phoenix, after I introduced myself. "Like...Finnick Odair?"

I hadn't expected her to make that connection. "Yes. I was named after him," I nodded, and her eyes somehow became even wider.

"Wow, that's amazing!" She exclaimed, bouncing a little. She leaned forward suddenly and hugged me, a warm squeeze that was meant in a friendly way. It startled me, though, not being used to so much physical contact. Feeling me stiffen up, she leaned back again, apologizing, "Oops, sorry. I always hug people. I should have warned you."

"It's fine," I said, and her face spread into a grin again.

"Hey!" Someone yelled, so loudly it echoed through the whole hall. Looking past Phoenix, I saw the District Ten boy glaring at someone nearby. That someone turned out to be Nyxie, who looked just as surprised as everyone else.

"What?!" She called back, clear bewilderment on her face.

"You took my bullets?"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!"

"I don't even have a gun, you idiot!" She held up her empty hands, proving her innocence. The District Ten boy still looked mad, however, cheeks beginning to get a red tinge to them.

"Liar!" He yelled, pointing his empty finger at her. The other one held his gun.

"If anyone's the lair, you are!" shouted Nyxie, her temper flaring up. Mako looked up from where he had been watching in the corner and, seeing the argument, began to make his way over. It was too late, though. The District Ten boy had already snapped. His other hand, the one holding the shotgun, snapped up and before any of us could do anything, he had pulled the trigger.

A moment later, a the final echoes of a gunshot were resonating around and Nyxie lay crumpled on the ground, blood creating a red, red rose on her shirt.


	17. Glittered Insanity

Compared to ours back home, the hospital in the training center was great. Clean, spacey and with calm, collected staff. Yet I still found myself hating it as I stood awkwardly in the waiting room, the smell of antiseptic burning in my nostrils.

It had been three days since that son of a bitch had shot Nyxie. Anger management issues, they had blamed it on. Despite that, I couldn't forgive him. In the aftermath, he had shown what looked like genuine concern, introducing himself as Anton and apologizing for his behavior. Lying was easy, though, I knew that from personal experience. From what I knew, he still hadn't done anything to repay Nyxie, who had been holed up in this place since it happened. It hadn't taken them long to remove the bullet from her body - thankfully it had only grazed a rib - and she had been complaining almost since the moment she woke up. They had refused to let her go until now, the evening of the interviews. Even then, they had told her not to strain herself.

A nearby door opened, and I straightened up. Nyxie stepped out, hair pulled back and still looking the same as ever, albeit moving a bit stiffly. The nurses murmured something to her as she began to walk my way, but she waved them off. I had to hold back a snort of laughter at the look on her face. "Finally," She muttered as they scurried away again, "Those two have been with me since I woke up."

"Hate at first sight?" I asked jokingly, and she grinned at me. Together we left the hospital - thank god for that - and made our way to the lower levels of the center, where we would meet our stylists. Unfortunately, it was at the elevator where we found ourselves face to face with Red and, just our luck, Anton. As we turned the corner, we saw them, head together, whispering about something. They froze, heads snapping up to stare at us, and we stopped abruptly. There was a moment of silence as our eyes locked, each of us deciding how to approach this situation.

"Hello, _Anton,_" sneered Nyxie, placing a hand on her hip. Her eyes narrowed, as did his.

"Hell, Nyxie," He replied, the tension between them so thick you could almost taste it. I could feel Nyxie tensing up beside me, jaw hardening. Something was going to happen between these two; they had a score to settle. Now wasn't the time to fight, though, I knew that.

"The elevator's here," I blurted out, the other three in the room turning to look. Reluctantly, the two ahead of us broke their positions, striding into the elevator. We followed, although I made sure to position myself between Anton and Nyxie. Red hit the ground floor button and the doors slid to a shut, the rushing feeling following them. I would never get used to that - it was like you were falling without actually falling. I was thankful it only lasted for a moment or two, but I always had a strange feeling in my legs even afterward. Because of that I nearly always took the stairs, when I could help it. In this particular situation, the only way down was the elevator.

With a ding, the doors slid open, revealing a long hall lit only by ceiling lights. Doors lined the walls on either side, unmarked except for the metal numbers in the center. Slipping a hand into my pocket, I seized the small piece of paper I had been given. Each of us had one; the three tributes around me also did the same, glancing down as I did. _12b _mine read and looking up again, I figured it would probably be near the end, considering the two nearest were marked _1a _and _1b. _We all began to walk forward, the doors passing by us in steady succession. Red split off first, going into door _6a, _followed by Anton into _10b._ We reached ours last - I had been right, the only doors after ours were that of Thirteen's - and, in perfect unison, we turned the handles.

"See you later," She said, stepping over the threshold. I did the same.

"You too," I murmured, then shut the door. Turning, I saw a large, empty space, lit by the same bright lights I had been in before the parade. In the shadows I could just make out what I thought were racks of clothing, which was most likely knowing Gloria, Dellie and Laffy. Just as I the thought crossed my mind, a door opened on one side of the room and the three colorful people entered, Crym following.

"Finn! You're here already!" Dellie cried, spotting me. The three ran over, hugging me at the same time before dragging me into the spotlight, where Crym already stood. I could feel their eagerness, their excitement, and it surprised me; I had never thought dressing me would be so important to someone.

"Well, you don't look too scruffy," My spiky-haired stylist commented, looking me over. I smirked,

"Tinker made me brush my hair."

"Good on her," She flashed me something like a half-smile, then clicked her fingers, "Alright. Dellie, Laffy, Gloria, time to get to work on this boy."

By the time my team of Stylists had finished, I barely recognized myself. Well, I did, but that's what they were saying, anyways. They kept my face and hair pretty much the same - some of that annoying powder and eyeliner again, nothing more - but the outfit was really something. This time it actually was a suit, with a black jacket, pants, shoes and tie, but the way it was loose and comfortable, I didn't really mind it. This time, what made it different were the feathers; flaming red with a splash of white, the same as last time, but because of the outfit's simplicity, they really stood out. On my cuffs, collar, sticking out of my pockets - I was surprised at the intricacy of their placement. Laffy even stuck one in my hair, settling just behind my ear.

"Perfect," Crym said, grinning for the first time since I had met her. I smiled weakly back, although really I didn't feel all that comfortable in such fancy get-up. Dellie bounced excitedly beside me, and I was reminded of Phoenix.

"Uhmm, Crym?" Laffy asked warily, tapping her shoulder. The red and black haired woman looked up at him,

"Yes"

"Ermm, it's time for the interviews," He said, pointing at a glimmering watch on his wrist. Crym sighed,

"Well, I wanted to do a little more, but I guess that'll do," She said, walking over to and opening the door. "Ready, Finnick?"

"I suppose," I said, stepping out into the hall. Gloria grinned at me,

"Don't worry, you'll do fine. This'll give you good luck!" To my surprise, she threw a handful of glitter onto me, flashing in the light as they settled on my shoulders. Crym shook her head, chuckling under her breath,

"Sorry about that. Good luck!" The door shut with a bang. Shaking some glitter off my nose, I felt nerves flutter up inside my stomach. Despite that, I found myself laughing. After every bad thing I had said about them back home, there was only one impression I had received during my time here.

The Capitol really was crazy.


	18. The Tables Turned

The hum of chatter hung in the air as we stood in a line, velvet curtain rolling slightly in front of us. It felt like only a minute ago I had been sneezing glitter as I rejoined the rest of the group, plus Mako, who had the job of showing us to the stage. In reality, it had been fifteen or so minutes ago, but you know what they say: time flies when you're having fun. Or, rather, the opposite. Standing around waiting for the camera crews to set up, the host to get ready; it was so _boring._ It was better than freezing my ass off in District Twelve, though, so I tried to feel slightly grateful. But as my knees began to creak and my feet began to ache, I found it harder and harder to do so.

"Sorry, sorry!" I heard a familiar voice cry out from behind me. Glancing backward, I saw Phoenix emerged from the shadows, her loose, sequined dress glittering in the light like fish scales. I suppose that made sense, her being from District Four and everything. I could help but notice, with a pang of pity, how much tighter the other dresses were compared to hers. While the other girls wore provocative things that barely left anything to the imagination, hers was almost like...something you might wear to a wedding, or church, minus the sequins. Not so surprisingly, the Capitol weren't fond of girls with a stomach.

As the orange-haired girl passed, she spotted me, and paused momentarily. "Hiya, Finn!" She greeted with a wide grin, and gave me a quick hug. It startled me; I knew she was a touchy-feely type, but not this much. Did she really think now was the right time to be my best buddy? She moved on quickly, but I was still confused. No one, not even someone as innocent as her, would do something like that so out of the blue. Conspiracy theories began to pop into my head one by one, getting wilder as they did so. From betrayal to implanting a secret tracker on my back, I soon found my head swirling with the craziest scenes and plots I had ever thought of. I realized I was just being paranoid; someone like her wouldn't do that. Would she?

"Finn!" Nyxie disrupted my train of thought and I returned to reality with a jolt. The line was moving forward now, the curtain opening. It was time to go out onto the stage. I walked quickly to catch up, reminded of the parade as the bright light approached. It would soon swallow me up, washing my skin in it's yellow glow. When it did, I realized that these interviews weren't so different from the parade. A crowd had gathered in seats ahead of the stage, where twenty-four empty seats were set out in a line. At the head of this line was a fake-looking, mint-green haired man. He looked about thirty, maybe forty years old, but the amount of make-up on him was visible even to my eyes. He almost looked...fake. Something you would see in one of those fancy magazines the safetyguards bought with them from the Capitol. When you thought about it, I suppose he was.

One by one, we sat down at our seats, the bright lights increasing in intensity as the cameras focused on us. I found myself glancing over at Nyxie, trying to see if she was in any pain. It didn't seem like it; it looked like her bravest face was on as her tight and _short _strapless orange dress glinted in the light, the black feathers adorned at the top twitching as she moved. When she sat, however, I saw the slightest bit of stiffness in her movement. Seeing me staring, she shot me a quick, harsh look, and I immediately averted my eyes. If anything was going to give it away, it was my staring.

"I welcome you, ladies and gentlemen," The green-haired man announced, standing. The claps from the crowd went quiet, "To the official interviews with the tributes for the 76th Hunger Games! I am Festus Dudarian, your host, and these," He gestured to us, "Are our wonderful contestants!" The claps began again. Nudging Nyxie's leg, I shot them my most charming smile, or at least something similar. I wasn't really sure; survival had always been my main priority, rather than looks. I suppose, in that way, I was like my mother. What I had heard of her, at least. "Yes, yes, stunning, aren't they? Now, each tribute will be allotted ten minutes each and will be asked as many questions as we can fit within that time. Is everyone ready?" There was another round of applause, and Festus grinned, showing off a picture perfect smile, "Great. So, let's begin!"

For the first ten or so minutes, I was attentive, trying my hardest to look like I was paying at least some mind to the other tributes. But my politeness began to wear thin after a while and before I knew it, the District Eleven girl in front of me was speaking. I managed to catch some info, though; Red's name was really Phoebe, the two District One tributes were named Ryken and Diamond, the tributes from District Two introduced themselves as Sears and Emme, and the District Four boy was called Strato. _Strange names, _I found myself thinking. Compared to the names back in District Twelve, which were mainly nature based or with some special meaning, these teens seemed to be named after the strangest things their parents could think of. No doubt there were even stranger names around, too.

"So, what's your name?" Festus asked, smiling down at the small District Eleven girl.

"Fawn," She replied simply, her voice soft and shy. Judging by her small, young-ish looks and her shy nature, I could tell she would be a favorite. From what Crym and the others had told me, the Capitol people were suckers for small and cute. Like kittens, apparently. That, and the other extreme; slick and sexy. I got the feeling they were going for the latter with me.

"Nice to meet you, Fawn. What do you consider yourself best at, in terms of skills?"

"Climbing trees," answered Fawn, and the crowd let out a soft laugh, like when a toddler gives you a soup made of earth and all it's creatures.

"Oh ho, sweetie, that's cute. But that's not an actual skill."

"I would like to see you try and beat me," The look of surprise on the faces of Festus and his crowd was hilarious. No one had expected such a harsh reply from a small girl like her.

"Well, that's nice. But I'm afraid we've run out of time with you, honey."

"Just you wait and see, Festus. Wait and see."

"Right." A smirk began to spread across my face. Fawn was smarter than she looked. Maybe a small girl like her wouldn't make such a bad ally. "Moving on! Our District Twelve male tribute. What's your name, son?"

"Finnick Everdeen, but you can just call me Finn. And don't call me son," I added the last bit automatically, then regretted it. That was part of my old attitude; if I wanted to earn the crowd's favor, I had to act nice. I flashed them a small smile and was fairly certain I caught a group of girls around my age smiling back.

"Fine, then. So, what do you consider your special skill, Finn?"

"I..." I paused. What was my special skill? Despite three days of hard training, I still hadn't mastered any of the weapons. I hadn't killed anyone yet, but I had gotten pretty close. So I came up with the first skill I could think of, "Hand to hand combat."

"Oh really? Not many people say that."

"Well I'm a little different, Festus."

He laughed at that, "You sure are. We saw that at the announcement in your home District, Twelve, you got into a bit of an argument with your escort, Tinker Finkel. What was that about?"

"Oh nothing, Festus," I replied, although really I was thinking the opposite. I hated how unfair, how cruel this was. But the Capitol didn't want to hear that. "I was just a little surprised, that's all."

"I'm sure you were. Even more so when you, of all people, were chosen for the Hunger Games, no?"

Suddenly, I found my patience had snapped. I couldn't stand how ignorant, how completely oblivious these people were. They didn't see how horrible, how torturous this was. Sure, I couldn't tell them that straight up, but I could surprise them with something else, at least. "Actually, no, I wasn't, Festus. Not when I heard Miss Primrose had picked them herself."

"Why? You had no idea this was going to happen. Why weren't you surprised?"

"Because, you see, this is the truth. Primrose Mellark, your precious little Overlord, is my sister," The crowd gave a collective, dramatic gasp. I turned my head, smiling sweetly at the cameras, "Hear that, Prim? You may not have surprised me, but I think I sure as hell just surprised you."


	19. Never Ever Again

Somehow, despite my outburst, the interviews managed to continue. I had to give some credit to Festus; that man knew how to keep a show rolling. I wasn't sure whether it was because of natural charisma or just the oblivious nature of the Capitol. Whatever it was, he managed to finish each of the interviews, speaking to Helena last. I noticed that, tactfully, none of the contestants had given away any major information, nothing that could expose a weakness. Surviving was going to be harder than I though, not that I had ever thought it would be easy. As soon as Festus gave us the cue, we all stood, flashing smiles and waves at the crowd as we walked off. Back behind the curtain, where we had begun. Except when we arrived there, it wasn't empty.

Two men in familiar white outfits stood there, missing their usual weaponry but still fairly intimidating. They were here for me, obviously. I wasn't proven wrong, either - as soon as we were all well and truly behind the curtain, they seized my arms tightly, pulling me toward them. "I'm afraid we're going to have to take Mister Everdeen for a while," They informed the other tributes, who had everything from gaping jaws to rolling eyes. "Government's orders. Thank you, and have a nice day," They finished, voices reminding me of robots. _Brain-washed, _I sourly thought, almost tripping on my own feet as they began to drag me toward the exit door. I passed Phoenix on the way who, to my surprise, winked at me and mouthed, _"Good luck." _Again, I found myself wondering about just how much that girl knew. Sure, she appeared innocent, but that could all just be an act to trick the other tributes. After all, she was the only person I had met so far who had made the connection with my first name.

I let myself be dragged along behind the safetyguards, not bothering to argue or resist. It was futile; they weren't going to let me go, even if it meant knocking me unconscious. If they couldn't do that, Primrose would find someone who could. My mind wandered, the shadowy halls swallowing us up. I wondered what Primrose was going to do, how she was going to cover this one up. I was fairly certain it had been live, broadcasting to every District plus the Capitol. Or maybe she wouldn't cover it up. Maybe she would admit to it, admit to throwing her own younger brother into the Hunger Games. I doubted anything would happen to her either way - the Capitol was so convinced of her good, so wrapped around her finger, she could throw them into a Panem-wide war and they would still adore her.

Feeling myself being pushed forward, I found myself thrown into a large, cool warehouse-like room. I recognized it as the room we had arrived in after the parade - except it had felt much smaller then, due to the horses and the tributes. This time, however, the only items in the room were two chairs and a table. I glanced behind me, expecting to see the safetyguards standing there, but instead I was met with the slamming of the door. I was on my own. They must trust whoever they had left to deal with me. Either that, or Primrose underestimated me a whole lot.

Walking over to one of the chairs, I sat down. That was what I presumed they wanted me to do, at least. Placing my head in my hands, I tried to think through what I was doing. What would I say to them? Who was going to speak to me? Were they going to ask me questions, or just beat the answers out of me? Do they even _want _answers? All these questions ran through my mind. I didn't know the answer to any of them; my dearest sister was so unpredictable it was almost predictable. Would she let them hurt me, leaving me at a disadvantage for the Games? Or did she take pleasure in seeing me fight it out, seeing me realize just how pathetic I was compared to the others?

There was the click of a door behind me and I looked up, seeing two guards walk in. These two were different from the others, though. They seemed more official, higher-ranked. I noticed a small, arrow-like badge on their left sleeve, and figured I was right. They strode up to me, halting about a step away. Had I been able to see emotion in their eyes, I could have sworn they were looking down on me with something similar to contempt. "We're here on the orders of Miss Primrose Mellark," One of them, the taller one, said, "Are you carrying any weapons?"

"Yes. Because everyone takes a gun to an interview," I replied sarcastically, not moving.

"Don't get snappy with us, Mister Everdeen," The smaller one warned, but I just arched an eyebrow at him.

"It's better than what your colleagues in District Twelve do." Saying that? Not my best idea. I was rewarded with a punch to the face, sending my head snapping to the side. Grunting with pain, I raised a hand to my cheek, touching my cheekbone, where his hit had been focused. When I drew my hand away, there was blood on the tips of my fingers. Nyxie wouldn't be the only tribute going into the Games with an injury, it seemed.

"We warned you," said the large one, the one who had hit me. I glared at them, but they didn't seemed to notice; they just turned around and left, the same way they had entered. Silently. Resting back in my chair, I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing in my cheek. I needed to think, to get my head straight. There didn't seem to be any chance of that happening soon. For all I knew, another two guards could be on their way. As I thought this, the sound of footsteps reached my ears. Eyes flickering open, I watched the door as the steps stopped and the handle began to turn. It was only one person this time, I could tell. They were lighter than the other guards, too.

The handle stopped turning, the door opening smoothly, and standing there, barely over the threshold, was someone I hadn't seen for a long time, and hadn't wanted to see ever again.

Primrose Rue Mellark. My sister.


	20. Your Living Hell

"Hello, Finn."

"Hey, Prim."

"Primrose."

"Nice to see you too."

The tension between us was high, crackling in the air like lightning. She strode over to me, high-heeled shoes clicking on the ground. She was only two years older than me, yet somehow, with her business like outfit, she seemed older. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, her blue eyes icy against her olive skin. I remember when we were younger, everyone had always said that she looked like our mother, while I got Dad's looks. Except for the eyes, they said; I had Mom's eyes, she had Dad's. I was tall like Mom, too, while Primrose was about average. I suppose that feature worked in my favor, considering my position.

"Interesting little interview you had, Finn," She said, sitting down. I smirked, but didn't reply. Crossing her legs, I noticed that beneath the fine layer of make-up on her cheeks, she still had the same, faint freckling that had been there since we were little. Where that feature had come from, no one knew. "You just had to tell them, didn't you, dearest brother?" She continued, voice cold, "You had to tell them about us. I'm surprised you didn't just come out and say your mother was Katniss fucking Everdeen."

"Language, Primrose. You know mom and dad never liked your potty-mouth."

"Will you just _shut up__?!_" She finally snapped, bringing a palm down onto the table, "Do you not realize what you've done, you idiot?! All I wanted was to get rid of you in a non-public manner. Something that wouldn't affect me. Then you go and do...that! How are the people of the Capitol going to react, knowing I'm sending my younger brother into a blood-bath? You might as well tattoo 'murderer' on my forehead."

"Look at what you've done, Primrose. If these people had any sense, they would've already seen that," I snarled, her eyes shooting daggers at me. I kept speaking before she could interrupt, "You chose to send me into this. It was your choice that started all this. You got the ball rolling - I'm only giving it a little push. People were going to find out anyway; Everdeen isn't the most common surname. They were bound to get curious. I've done you a favor by giving you more time to make your excuses."

"You haven't done yourself any favors, Finn," hissed Primrose, leaning forward, "You may think you've done something heroic, something that will work for you. But you're wrong. You've just revealed a huge weakness in yourself - me. They will use you to get information on me. They will torture you until you speak up. Because of this, you're going to die a long, painful death."

"I've spoken to most of them; they're not as smart as that."

"You may think that. But I've handpicked each and every one of these tributes and believe me, they're a lot smarter than they look. And if not, they're double the strength of a normal person. You stand no chance against them." She sat back again, a smile on her face. A chilling, evil smile. I glared at her.

"Yeah, well guess what? I'm a lot smarter than you think, too."

She shook her head in pity. "But you're just a poor, starved boy from District Twelve. And I'm the leader of the entirety of Panem, the girl who everyone worships."

"That's what you think, but-"

"They _have _to worship me, Finn. It's either that, or death."

I shook my head, "You're wrong. I'm going to survive, Primrose."

"Then I can promise you this," She got to her feet, bending over to whisper in my ear, "I'm going to make your life an absolute living _hell _from now on."

Stepping back, she let out a cold, harsh laugh. Then, just as promptly as she had arrived, she left. The room was so quiet, so icy after she left, it was startling. I ground my teeth together, nerves flooding into me. I knew she wasn't kidding. These Hunger Games and, if I survived, my life, would never be the same. I was never going to relax again. Pain would be the only thing that walked beside me.

"Finn?" A softer, kinder voice broke the silence. Looking up, I saw Tinker Finkel poking her brightly-haired head around the door, eyes wide. Seeing me, alone, she rushed in, giving me a warm hug as soon as she reached me. It was a bit awkward, the jewelry on her arms digging into my back, her necklaces falling into my face. Thankfully, she stepped back quickly, allowing me to stand. "Finn! Don't you dare do that to me again! Next time, before you go and tell _all of Panem _you're the brother of Primrose Mellark, would you mind warning me? Or at least telling...someone!"

"Look Tinker, I'm sorry-"

"You could have been killed! Do you realize that?! And look, they hit your cheek..." She raised a hand to my face, softly touching the cut with her thumb. I drew away with a wince, waving away her hand.

"Okay, okay, I won't do it again. I promise. Can we go, now?"

"Fine, fine," She gave in, beginning to walk forward. I followed, "But please, before you go and tell them things about Katniss and Peeta, warn me, okay? I don't need the entire Capitol up in arms over something you say."

"Okay, but-" I stopped speaking abruptly, realizing what she had just said, "W-wait, you know about them?"

"Well, yes," She halted, reaching for the handle of the door, which was now in front of us. "Of course I do. Doesn't everyone?"

"N-no, Tinker. They've kept it pretty well hidden."

"How did they do that? It's all over the history books."

"Mom and dad...didn't really like to talk about it. Outside of District Twelve, no one really...knew."

"Oh. Well..." She trailed off, opening the door. We stepped out. "I guess that's that then, hm?"

I nodded, and she flashed me a reassuring grin. I wasn't sure whether it was Primrose's threat, or the possibility of everyone knowing of my parents hanging over my head, but as I followed Tinker up the hall and back to the rooms, I felt less than reassured.

I felt scared.


	21. The Beginning Of The End

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

_My heart raced, my feet ached and my muscles burned as I raced across the terrain. The bangs that normally fell lightly on my forehead were instead slicked to my skin with sweat, what loose locks there were flying back in the wind. I was running, but from what, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I had to leave. Get out of here now. Or something bad, very bad was going to happen._

_Skidding to a halt, I looked around. I looked for anything; familiar land, like a beach or a forest, or even the enemy I was running from. But I saw nothing. Nothing at all. Only a solid blackness surrounding me, trapping me. Glancing down, there was no ground at my feet. Only the white. With a jolt - so similar to the elevator, it was scary - I began to fall, rushing downwards. The scream that echoed around me didn't sound like my own voice, though. It sounded unfamiliar, alien. This entire place was alien._

_Without needing to look down, I felt the ground rushing up to meet me. Faster and faster. I remembered something I had been told when I was younger. If you hit the ground before you wake in a dream, you die in real life. I wasn't slowing down. If anything, I was speeding up. I was going to die, before I had even had a chance._

_Then I remembered; this was a dream._

Gasping for air, I woke. But, unlike my nightmare, through the darkness around me I could see the shapes of furniture. A dresser, mirror, stuff like that. Sighing with relief, I sat back. Just what I needed. The night before the Hunger Games and I was being awoken by nightmares. After training today - which was incredibly boring, but I tried to concentrate - I was sure there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. How could I, knowing that when I woke up, I would be tested and then sent off to what was most likely my death? But the Games' organizer, or whoever ran this place, was smarter than that. Just before I began to get ready for bed, I was sent two small, white pills, with a note reading _'To help you sleep'._ Plus a smiley face.

The pills had worked like a charm, but clearly their effects weren't lasting. After fifteen minutes or so of trying to fall asleep again, I found myself more wide awake than ever. Irritated, I dragged myself out of bed and into some loose clothing, not bothering to brush my hair. As if Tinker was going to be watching, scolding at the ready should she see me. Glancing at the glowing clock, I checked the time; three thirty a.m.. So the doors would still be locked, unfortunately. Too bad; a walk would have been nice.

I still had the phone, though.

I wasn't really sure why they had supplied us with a phone. As if we had anyone to call. Even if we did, they probably wouldn't let us. 'Privacy concerns' or something of the like. I knew for a fact that the others had been given phones, too, along with the small phone book I had been given. Grabbing it, I opened it, searching in the light of the clock. Finally, I found the number I was looking for: _Nyxie Nightingale, Room 17h, number 00998. _It was a long shot, for sure, but maybe she was awake. Maybe she had the same problem as me; nightmares.

Punching in the numbers, I dialed. There was silence on the other end for a moment, broken only by the beeping of the phone, but finally another voice picked up, surprisingly alert for this time. "Finn?"

"Yup. How'd you know?"

"Who else would be calling me at this time?"

"True," I laughed quietly, then continued, "So, you're awake too?"

"Yeah. Nightmares again?"

"Mmmhmm." We lapsed into silence. It was like that awkward silence in a room full of people; you all know the big thing you want to say, but no one has the guts to say it. Except this time, I managed to, "So...the Games tomorrow, huh?"

"...Yeah," Her voice was softer as she spoke, "Just so you know, Finn, I still stick by what I said at the parade."

"Ditto."

I heard her sigh on the other end, and the sound of rustling, as though she was adjusting her position. "Finn, do you ever wonder...why we were chosen for this?"

"Well, no. I mean, this is just an easy way for Primrose to get rid of me..."

"No, no, not like that. I mean...why me? It's not like she has any reason to hate me. I never even spoke to her back in District Twelve."

"Maybe..." I tried to find an answer, but I couldn't. Nyxie was right - there was no reason for Primrose to choose her. Unlike me, there was nothing she had ever done to make Prim hate her. "I don't know, Nyxie."

She sighed again, but this time longer, more exasperated. "Whatever. I'm going to get through this, no matter what happens."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," I said, and she laughed harshly over the phone.

"Sure, yeah. Speaking of that, we should probably get back to sleep. No use being tired for the testing."

"I suppose."

"Good night, Finn. And good luck."

"Good luck to you, too."

"May the odds be ever in your favor," She finished, and the phone cut off. Biting my lip, I put down the phone. She sounded so calm, so peaceful. Of course, inside she was probably freaking out, but she hid it well. Despite our conversation, I was fairly certain I wasn't going to sleep. For the rest of the night, I stayed awake, pacing, thinking, exploring. To my great surprise, I found a bug behind one of the dressers, the kind that recorded sound. Naturally, I crushed it, not liking the idea of the Capitol listening in to what I said. There were probably thousands more spread throughout the Center, but at least one was gone.

Eventually, the dark sky outside began to lighten, going from a navy blue to a creamy pink. It was during this time I did everything I had been told to; shower, brush my hair, everything like that. Even as I did this, I felt a change in the air. This wasn't just an ordinary day, like the past six had been. This was _the _day. The day we had all been training for. The day we got sent into the Games.

For twenty-three of us, it was the beginning of the end.


	22. Sparring Matches

Nervous movement was all around me as I sat, foot tapping impatiently. I knew I wasn't the only one feeling this way; complaints hit my ears from left and right. It had been the same for the first eight tributes - they go in, then the rooms erupts with people wondering how long it took for them to get tested. I had been fine the first few times, seeing as it really wasn't as long as they all made it out to be. But as it got closer and closer to my turn, I found the butterflies in my stomach increasing, the jitters in my body becoming more obvious. The rest of the room didn't help.

Finally, it was Nyxie's turn. She flashed me a weak smile, then entered the room, leaving just Helena, Jaxx and I. Jaxx was his usual, sullen self - I had long given up on making conversation with him - but Helena turned her head to me, looking even paler than usual. "So, it's just us left, huh?"

"Yeah. Nervous?"

"Hell yes! Aren't you?"

"Of course." Sighing, I leaned forward, running a hand through my mop of hair. "I can't believe we'll be in the Arena this afternoon."

"I know," She frowned, "I don't want to go."

"No one does."

"I know. Just pointing it out." There was a crackle, and the familiar intercom voice said, _"Finnick Everdeen, please report for testing."_

"Well, that's my cue to go," I said, getting to my feet. Helena smiled lightly,

"Good luck."

"You too."

I tried to smile back at her, but my nerves prevented it. Breathing in deeply, I opened the door, stepping through. The room inside was exactly the same as the Training Room, but instead of separate stations, everything was set in the middle. At the front of the room sat a team of judges, one of which was Mako. He looked serious, but I could see the smile creeping onto his face. Suddenly, I was struck with curiosity; when my mother and father had been tested, had it been the same as this? Or different? Did they have a team of judges, or just one? Had their entire experience been like this?

Was my experience going to be like theirs?

"Mr. Everdeen, please show us what you can do." Shaking my head, I snapped back into reality. Now wasn't the time to start losing my nerves. Stepping forward, I took in what was there. Bows and arrows, knives, clubs, guns...everything. There was even a satchel of herbs, flowers and berries, which I presumed were for healing and camouflage. Nothing that I thought I was good at myself, though. Chewing on my lip, I thought over what I could do. Like I had said in the interviews, hand-to-hand combat was my best skill. I had even play-fought with Mako a few times, something he called 'sparring'. I had never heard of that back home, but then again, we hadn't fought for fun back there. It was my tricky speed, rather than my strength, that made me good at it. That's what I thought, anyway.

"Mako," I said, looking up at the ginger haired man. He looked surprised, the rest of the judges turning to him. "Come down here."

The middle judge, a man with strange lavender hair, looked back at me. "Mr. Everdeen, that is not permitted." Just by his voice, I could tell he was the Head.

"Not permitted my ass," I snapped back, shocked expressions crossing their faces, "You want to see what I can do, don't you? Mako. Get down here."

Warily, he stepped away from the table, walking toward me. He looked hesitant, doubtful. "Finn, you're breaking the rules," He whispered to me as he reached the center of the room. I shrugged,

"Whatever. Just get into position." Realizing what I was trying to do, he took up his usual stance; legs slightly apart, hands raised. Despite being shorter than me, he was a lot stockier. If I had actually been fighting him, I would've been more wary. Even then, he had almost got me with a punch once. Just preparing me, apparently. Raising my own fists, I smirked, and glanced at the judges, "Watch this, guys."

Fifteen minutes later, both Mako and I were red-faced and breathing heavily. The only difference? He was on the ground, and I wasn't.

I hadn't hit him, of course. I had just aimed my fist close enough that he stepped back, tripping over his own feet in the process. Looking up, I held out my hands, "That enough for you?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Everdeen," The Head stammered, clearly startled at what I had done. I grinned.

"Great. Bye, then. Hopefully I won't get murdered today," I said in a perfectly cheerful tone, walking out of the room through the door to my left. My expression returned to normal as soon as I was out of the room. Why not freak them out a little more? It was the only chance I was going to get. I hadn't exited into the same room I had entered from; instead, I was now in a long, curving hall, leading to...somewhere. It had to. Right? This wasn't my nightmare. It wasn't. That dream had been haunting me all day, nipping at the edges of my mind. I had tried to forget it, but for some reason it just wouldn't go. The never-ending blackness, solid and unbroken. Un-flawed. A perfect world of onyx.

The hall ended, opening into a long room. It was completely different from how the rest of the house had looked - this room was nearly entirely metal, reflecting my image back at me here and there. There were small screens, and large ones too, along with buttons and levers. Everything was some sort of technology. Except for the chair in the center, but even that was metal. I wondered if I was even in the same house. A door somewhere to the side opened, and a woman in a long white coat walked in. "Mr. Everdeen," She said, with a nod to me, before gesturing to the seat, "Please sit."

I did as she asked, nerves once again returning. I didn't like the look of this place. It reminded me of the hospital, with the same antiseptic smell. She disappeared somewhere, probably through the door again, and it was only after I was just starting to forget about her completely that she returned. I only remembered then because she was suddenly jabbing a needles into my arm.

"Hey! What the f-" I cut off, seeing her take it out. Gingerly, I touched where she had inserted whatever was in that needle. Beneath my fingers I felt a small, but noticeable, lump. Seeing the confused look on my face, she explained,

"A tracker. To make sure you don't disappear. Oh, and to check if you're still alive." Her tone stayed the same, monotonous and bored. She sounded so brain-washed it was scary. Again, she left the room. This time, however, she didn't return. I was sure of it. What I thought was fifteen minutes passed without a single sign from her. Not even the many screens and computers around me did anything. It was only after I came to the conclusion that she wasn't coming back that I yawned, and my eyes began to droop. Why was I suddenly tired? It couldn't be that late. I had come to testing in the morning. It wasn't like it had taken that long, either. Maybe five, six hours? That meant it should only be midday. No time for a nap. Yet still I felt my head spinning with tiredness, my breathing deepening.

It was just as I was slipping into unconsciousness that I realized the truth; I had been drugged.


	23. Dusty, Dangerous Deserts

"Ugh..."

I groaned as I began to come to. My eyes opened slowly, the light, although not bright, burning them. Groggy, I tried to move, but found my arms strapped to my side. In fact, it felt like my entire body was strapped tightly. Blinking the blurriness out of my vision, I glanced around, surprised to find myself in what looked like a foggy tube, with plastic rings, indeed, around my body. I tried to struggle against them, split them apart, but it did nothing. They were solid as rock, despite looking flimsy from my angle.

"Ah, so, you're awake?" I heard a female voice say a minute or so after my awakening. There was the sound of shoes clicking outside of the tube, which made seeing impossible except for inside of it. I nodded, but then remembered that if she couldn't see me, I probably couldn't see her.

"Yes. I have been for a while, actually."

"Well, _actually,_ we knew that. We just wanted to make you wait." It was only after she said that, I realized I recognized the voice. Sure, I had only really spoken to her briefly over the past week, but I still couldn't forget it.

"Ana?"

"You recognize my voice?" She said with a laugh, "Good on you. Your mind's still sharp; in a few minutes, that'll be very handy." It took me a minute to figure out what she meant, during which we lapsed into silence, the only sounds being the ones she was making outside the tube.

"The Hunger Games?"

"Mmmhmm."

"When am I going in?"

"A minute and a half, exactly." My heart skipped a beat.

"What?! No warning?! Just...that?!"

"That's how the Capitol works, Finn." I figured she was right, but that didn't stop my anger. I couldn't believe they had just drugged me, locked me in a translucent tube, then awoken me just a minute before being sent into a murderous game. Then again, I _could _believe it. Ana was right - this was the Capitol we were talking about. They would do anything for their kicks. Or, rather, their Government would.

_"I'm going to make your life an absolute living __hell _from now on."

I shivered at the thought of what she had said. Thankfully, Ana's voice distracted me from my increasingly dark thoughts, "Forty-five seconds, Finn. Are you ready?"

"Of course. That's what this entire week has been about, hasn't it? Getting ready."

I heard her chuckle again, "Yes. I was just checking. Don't want you passing out or something."

"Don't worry, I'm stronger than that," I managed to force up a light chuckle myself, despite the situation. Maybe it was my nerves messing with my head. "District Twelve did that to me."

"Thirty seconds," She said. I heard her steps again, getting progressively louder. She was coming closer. "You know, they all say that you coming from District Twelve is a disadvantage," said Ana, voice growing more serious, "But I think it might just work in your favor. Those other tributes; they've had a better life than you. Even the District Thirteen kids. They might not be able to handle the harshness of the Arena. But you will."

I felt a small smile creep across my face, making me even more sure I was going insane. "Thanks, Ana."

"No problem, Finn," She replied, then added, "Just don't go soft in there, okay?"

"Never."

"Brilliant," I heard her sigh, and step back, "Fifteen seconds."

"Hey, Ana?"

"Yeah?"

"If I die...can you tell my friend back home, Geraldine, something?"

"Of course. What?"

"Just tell her...I didn't change. That I was still the same. Oh, and I was thinking of her."

"Sure. Make sure you try, though. I don't want to be a mentor left with only one tribute after a day," With a snort, I heard her take a few more steps back. "Alright, seven seconds. You're about to go up, Finn."

"Okay. Any idea what's up there?"

"I couldn't tell you even if I knew," She paused, and I felt the seconds ticking away, "Oh, and Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't step off your platform until you hear the beep. If you do, you'll get blown to pieces. Good luck!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but suddenly the bands around my body were released and with a woosh, I was shooting upwards. The rushing lasted for several moments until my head burst into bright sunlight, the rest of my body following. Then with a jolt the movement stopped and I was left wobbly on my feet. Remembering what Ana said, I quickly regained my balance, squinting my eyes as I looked around. I expected to see a forest, or a lake, or something similar, maybe mountains. Instead, I found myself looking at something completely different.

I was standing in the middle of a desert.

I was tempted to moan aloud, to swear, say anything that would show my displeasure at the terrain. But I didn't, at least not once the silence hit me. It was a very strong silence, a very ironically loud one. I hesitated to break it. It wasn't that I enjoyed it - if anything, it just proved the lack of life around - but it was like an intimidating nemesis. A terrifying foe who I just couldn't face, not yet. This silence, for now, was my enemy.

Now my eyes fell on the other tributes, who were all standing with their feet firmly planted on their respective platforms. They, and I, were all part of a large circle, one that gave us a distance of about five meters from each other. Enough to give us a head start on the running, but not enough to ruin the chances of someone giving us a knife to the back. Looking directly forwards, my eyes met with the District Nine girl. I could see the fear in them already. However, my gaze soon wandered to over her shoulder, where I saw a huge metal...cone? Confused, I peered at it, trying to see what was inside it. To my surprise, there was a whole manner of things in there. From what I could see, there were backpacks, bows and arrows, knives that glinted in the sun. I could even spot a large hammer. There were lesser things, too, like plastic bags and small rubber balls, but they were further away. I imagined that the closer you got, the better the spoils became. Along with the chances of you being killed.

Blinking back into the real world, I tried to figure out how much time had passed since I had emerged into the desert. Thirty, forty seconds? No more, surely. That left me about twenty or so left to figure out my strategy. I could feel my heart and breathing rate increase as panic began to set in. What was I going to do? Running straight in was no good, not when your only skill required your foe to be directly in front of you. Some of these tributes may be a little thick, but they weren't that dumb. Besides, I was the furthest from the Cone - I had even less of a chance than anybody. I had to do something tricky, something sneaky. The plan was just on the corners of my mind, almost formed, almost there. The perfect strategy.

But I had run out of time. The bell went with a ding, and we all lurched forward, almost on instinct.

The 76th Hunger Games had begun.


	24. Me Against The World

I was coldly reminded of my nightmare as I began to run, as hard and as fast as I could, toward the horn. Just like in my dream, my lungs burned and my body ached as I pounced my feet against the hard ground with as much force as I could muster. Except now I could see where I needed to go. My first assumptions about the land had been wrong, I realized; unlike deserts, which were sandy and covered with dunes, this land was bare. Dry and cracked earth which was flat for as far as my eye could see, the air around it stiff and hot. No sand to be seen. This place wasn't a desert - it was a wasteland.

I heard heavy breathing behind me and a moment later, Phoebe was ahead, just a blur of red hair in my peripheral vision. Already I could see the mouth of the cone widening, the start of it's spoils only a few strides away now. Inside, I could just make out the movements of several tributes sifting desperately through the contents, trying to get a much as they could before the rest arrived. Pausing, I started to take stock of what I could see, aware I was making myself a target. Hidden within the shadows of the cone, my eye caught the glinting of several silver weapons; guns, hammers, bows and arrows, knives, everything we had been trained in back at the Capitol. They all look incredibly deadly. They weren't what I needed, though, well aware of the fact that even if I did try to go after them, I would most likely get killed or kill myself with them later. Instead, I turned my gaze to what was nearer. Canteens, matches, sleeping bags, tarpaulins, all the small things. Things I could use.

"Move, idiot!" A voice behind me shouted and, to my surprise, I found myself shoved from behind. Falling to my knees, I caught a glimpse of Emme running ahead, dark ponytail bobbing up and down as she moved. A burst of rage surged through me as I spit out dust, blinking my eyes. This wasn't the Training Center anymore - this was the Hunger Games. I couldn't let them get the best of me. I had to fight. She had already got one over me. Now it was time for me to jump in, to get my own back. It was time for me to fight. Pushing myself off the ground and into a kneeling position, I locked my eyes ahead, preparing myself to go running after her. My ears, however, picked up a thud behind me and I glanced down. Shivering in the earth just behind me was a knife, slightly blunt, but dangerous never-the-less. A sharp spike of pain distracted me and, looking down at my leg, I was startled to see blood seeping for a new wound on my thigh, clearly from the knife. Some already had weapons, I realized with a jolt. Someone had already taken a shot at me.

Jumping to my feet, ignoring the pain from my leg, I ran forward, adrenaline pumping. Maybe it was the shock from the attack, or just pure fear, but I felt more determined than I ever had. Already the amount of items I had to run through was increasing, the mouth getting closer and larger. So was the crowd. I could see Ryken and Anton wrestling, a large silver club between them. As I did, something caught my foot, although I managed to stay upright. I was shocked to see that what had tripped me wasn't something natural - no, not at all. It was the body of the District Nine girl I had been looking at earlier, eyes wide and skin pale. A silver knife lay embedded in her chest, crimson liquid seeping from around it. Before I could even think, I found my hand around it, ripping the knife out of her chest. It was a sharp one, much more so than the one from before. Wiping the blood off on my pant, I tightened my grip on it, aware that for now, it was my only weapon.

I heard a scream from behind me and turning, I found myself staring at the back of Diamond, her creamy hands wrapped around the neck of a familiar orange-haired girl. My mind flashed back to years ago, when I had saved Gaia from the safetyguard. The position I was in now was very similar. I knew that if I helped her, it would make me even more of a target than I already was, and leave me less time to gather items. But Phoenix was so nice, so innocent, so...different. I wanted to give her a chance. I needed to.

Raising my hand high above me head, I squeezed my eyes shut. Then I did something I had never imagined I would do.

I sent the knife plummeting down into her back. I killed someone.

The blonde girl crumpled nearly immediately. Ripping my knife out of her back, I opened my eyes again. Blood dripped from the blade and, disgusted, I wiped it off. There was a numbness within me as I did it, the fact that I had just killed someone raw in my mind. Looking up, my eyes met two wide blue ones. "Thank you," Phoenix whispered, and I noticed tears in her eyes. Before I could say anything back, however, she was off, grabbing a backpack I hadn't noticed as she did. I mentally scolded myself. I could have used that. Yet, instead, I had done...that. A pang of guilt hit me, but I knew now wasn't the time for emotions, let alone guilt or regret. I set off again, moving in the same direction, trying to stay quick to avoid getting hit by the many flying weapons. An arrow grazed my cheek at one point, a huge hammer barely missing my shoulder shortly after. It wasn't the danger of getting hurt that made keep moving, however. It was what I saw when I did slow down.

Bodies. Everywhere. I couldn't look anywhere without seeing at least one dead person. I had already seen the body of the other District Nine tribute, a long silver arrow protruding from the boy's chest. Both District Eight tributes were dead, their lives taken by one swing of a sharp-edged club from Sears. The female District Seven girl was dead, too, although I had only caught I glance of her. The huge, bloody dent in the side of her head said enough, though. I didn't doubt for a moment that there were more bodies around, either. However, it was as I found myself slowing again that I noticed what I needed. I hadn't known what I was looking for, but this was it. A large backpack, so large it had some of it's contents spilling out. A canteen which, judging by the small drip from it's top, had water it it. A blanket that looked rough, but would do. A box of matches and even what looked like a container of medicine. This was what was going to save my life, what would keep me from death. Thankfully, it wasn't too far away.

Lurching forward, I reached out my hands to grabbed it, but snapped them back as an arrow shot by. Holding out my right palm, I saw droplets of blood forming on a cut. Clenching my jaw, I glanced in the direction the arrow had come from. There I saw Fawn, a small bow and quiver of arrows in her arms. As I saw her jump forward, eyes locked on the backpack, I realized we were after the same thing. I was going to have to fight her. I raised my knife, but found myself held back. She was so small, so young. She could only be about twelve, maybe thirteen. I couldn't attack her - it would be like attacking one of the young orphans back home. But I needed the backpack. I needed it to survive.

She had her hands on it now and before I could stop myself, I lashed out at her. The blade slashed across her back, cutting open a diagonal line on her clothes. I managed to draw some blood, but only a scratch, really. It was enough to make her stop. Jumping forward, the snatched the backpack out from under her, slinging it over my back and running for it before she could do anything. There was the whizz of arrows flying past my ears as I ran, but none hit me. Already the items and people were beginning to thin out, opening out onto wider desert. Despite the aches from the cuts I ahd sustained, the burning in my lungs, I had made it.

But now, as I began to leave the scene behind, a realization hit me. A cold, harsh realization.

From now on, I was alone.


	25. Cactus

I collapsed to the ground with a thump, breathing heavily. I had finally left the sight - and sounds - of the Cone behind me. Even when it had been merely a speck on the horizon I had continued running. Now that it had disappeared completely, swallowed up by the sky, I let myself fall to the ground. My body ached all over, my muscles weak from tiredness. But I had the backpack, and a weapon. I had enough to keep me alive for now. Slipping the bag off my back, I pulled it completely open, letting the contents spill out onto the cracked ground. What was inside didn't look all too fancy, nor did it look like a lot, but I was thankful for it anyway. The canteen I had seen earlier was really only half full, along with the box of matches. The blanket was some sort of rough, scratchy wool, and the tin of medicine was actually some sort of sun protection cream, according to the label on the top. The thought of how much we could use this back in District Twelve crossed my mind, but I shook it off. Now wasn't the time for thinking about that.

Along with the other supplies, there was also two more knives, although blunter and shorter than the one I already had. A camouflage sheet colored the hue of the desert, and a strange tap-like object. It was like a tube, except it curved around and down, blunt and even at one end while the other end had a sharper point at the bottom part. Within the tube was what looked like a filter, although what it was for I wasn't sure. It really confused me, but I kept it regardless. They wouldn't have put it in the game for no reason. I took a quick sip of the water, feeling the want for water dry landscape gave you. I couldn't drink it all though - not until I found a source of water. Which, right now, seemed impossible. The entire place was empty; stifling hot and empty. There was literally _nothing. _Find water almost seemed hopeless out here. But I wouldn't give up. Not yet, anyway.

I quickly rubbed some of the sun cream over the most exposed places of my skin, using as little as possible, before packing away the bag and getting to my feet again. Slinging it over my back, I began to walk, not sure exactly where I was going. All I knew was that I was moving away from the Cone, from that bloodbath battle. My legs protested against the movement, but I ignored them. I had to keep moving. Sweat rolled down the back of my neck as I walked, my clothes only trapping more of the burning hot within me. I was tempted to take off the jacket, but I knew all it would do was burn my skin. Of course, I knew that in the long run, there would be no avoiding that, but I could leave it for now. By the time the sun was beginning to sink, turning the sky a pale pink hue, I was absolutely exhausted. My body felt hot and sticky with sweat, my cheeks burning with the exercise and sun. I wanted to keeping going, I really did, but my body just couldn't any more. Maybe it was blood loss - the cut on my leg had been deeper than I originally realized - but finally I just fell, hitting the ground. My warm cheek lay against the equally warm earth, feeling the ridges in the ground rubbing against my skin. I rolled over onto my back, eyes closed. Weakly, I slipped the bag off, the objects in it digging into me uncomfortably.

For a while I just lay there, eyes closed, letting strength slowly slip back into my body. It wasn't returning fast enough, and it wouldn't last for long, but it would be okay for a while. I hadn't seen any sign of water, or life overall, as I had walked. Not even a rock. At times, I thought I had seen something, once even a human running past, but it had turned out to be the shimmering heat in the air playing tricks with my eyes. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the canteen, taking a large gulp of water. I felt guilty almost immediately after, but it helped. Sitting up, I focused my gaze onto the backpack, trying to figure out what to do next. My body screamed for sleep, to rest and regain the energy it had burnt today. But out here, so in the open, I was bound to get killed. I wasn't sure if there were any tributes near me, but in the Hunger Games, you could never relax.

This thought gave me a little motivation to get moving again. Getting up, I put on the bag, breaking into a walk again. The sun was nearly completely gone, now, only a shard of it visible over the horizon. The sky was a deep purple, already dotted with a star or two. Unlike what I had read in books, it wasn't getting any colder, let alone freezing. It had gotten cooler, sure - the air was now a lukewarm temperature - but it was uncomfortably so. Always too hot, never too cold. My eyes traveled down, watching only my feet for several minutes. The ground, after all, was changing more than the landscape around me. The cracks were almost hypnotically beautiful, weaving across the dusty ground. Like tiny canyons, for ants maybe. The thought of an ant falling down one almost made me laugh.

Looking up, I stopped dead. As it turned out, I had been wrong. Something _had _changed. There, in the middle of the wide open land, was a single, green plant. It was almost like a small tree, except without leaves. Instead it was spiny, similar to a porcupine. Breaking into a run, I almost threw my arms around the plant, then realized that was probably a bad idea. My hand did brush it, however, and much to my surprise was left with a small trail of clear liquid. I could only just see it in the light, but it was there. A moment later, I was even more sure it was real when it started burning and stinging, much like the bite of an insect. I quickly wiped it off, but I was fairly certain I saw a pale red mark left where it was. Turning my attention back to the plant, I tried to figure out what it was, and whether it was any use to me. Carefully avoiding what I now assumed were poisonous spines, I poked the skin. It wasn't like bark - if any thing, it was like an eel's skin. Smooth and almost soft when you poked it. Looking it over, I wracked my brain for any information on this plant. Had I seen it before? Could I do anything with it?

Then it dawned on me. I _had _seen this plant before. In my final day of training, when I had sat, bored, through a lesson on plants. If this had been any other plant, I wouldn't remember. But I took note of this plant because of the conditions it lived it - it survived under impossible odds.

It was a cactus. But the best part was that I _could _do something with it.

I could get water from it.


	26. Let's Play A Game

**Hey! Sorry I haven't been posting. Our internet crashed, along with our phones, so I've been practically without technology until today. I'm not sure how much more of this I'll be able to continue, due to the fact my mom wants me getting out more, but we'll see how it goes. :)**

It hit me at once. How I hadn't realized this before, I wasn't sure. They had never shown us the item in training – maybe that was why. But now I knew what this strange tube item was, what I could use it for. I practically threw the backpack off my back, fumbling around within it. My hands brushed past the many other objects inside, finally finding the tube beneath everything. Seizing it, I pulled it out, looking back at the cactus. Now all I had to do was figure out how to get it in there, without getting stung by the spines. That, maybe, was not going to be easy.

It took me at least fifteen minutes, but finally I managed to get my hands and arms at a certain angle, dodging the many spines. With as much force as possible, I shoved the tap into the plant, twisting it around in order to push it in deeper. Juices seeped out from around the hole and despite my aching thirst, I didn't dare try some. If I had taken anything away from that lesson, it was not to drink unfiltered cactus water. Most likely, it was poisonous and I would end up wandering around, wrapped in hallucinations. Which would inevitably lead to my death. Yay.

Taking my hands off the tap, I pulled away from the cactus, carefully avoiding the spines. Scruitinizing my work, I tried to see where the small switch I had seen earlier was. The light that had been so bright before was now fading, night rushing in to take it's place. Finally, my eyes caught it, just on top of the tube. I was reaching out my hand to turn it, when I thought again. Crouching down, I picked up my canteen, now only a quarter full. Placing it under the tap – carefully, carefully – I went to twist the switch once again, hearing a satisfying trickling sound when I finally did. It stayed like that for a moment, before strengthening, the tap sucking out more water as time went on. Of course, it didn't ahve the strength of an actual tap, but it was better than nothing at all. Especially in tehse conditions, where water was everything.

Water and food.

I was painfully reminded with a growl of my stomach that I had no food. I hadn't eaten since...before the Games had begun. The backpack I had retrieved hadn't carried anything to eat, either. Still holding the canteen to the tap, I crouched down, trying to think. How in the world I was going to get food out here, I didn't know. I had been lucky to even find water so quickly, but food? Surely life wasn't going to be that fortunate. I had never been one of those people who just happened to always get the good things in life. I'd always had to fight for it. But how was I going to fight for something that just wasn't there?

Then I remembered. There must have been food inside the Cone. There had to have been. Hidden under all those weapons, food and herbs must've lain. I could go back for them. Yet, I couldn't – that was one thing I knew. Other tributes, most likely the stronger ones, would've killed all the others there and taken what was left for themselves, including the food. If I wanted it, I was going to have to steal it from them. How was I going to do that? I didn't know. Then again, I had always fought for what I needed in life. Why was this going to be any different?

I was brought out of my thoughts by the feeling of water dripping down my arm. Looking up, I saw the canteen overflowing, filled to the brim with water. Straightening up, I twisted the switch back to it's original position, taking a few large gulps of water before placing the cap back on. The water tasted slightly strange, but definitely not toxic. Besides, there was a filter inside the tube, wasn't there? That would filter out any toxins, I was sure.

My eyes were drawn to the sky by a large boom, much like a gun going off. As I watched, a small patch in the sky was lit up by what I assumed was a projected image of the Panem flag. A song played – maybe it was an anthem or something - and the image changed with yet another boom to a picture of Diamond, the District One girl who, I remembered with a pang, I had killed. A moment, or a boom, later the image changed yet again, this time to a picture of the District Three girl. This continued, the pictures changing every time there was a boom. I watched as images flashed by, showing me the District Five boy and both tributes from Districts Six, Seven, Eight and Nine. The large District Ten girl's face flashed up for a moment, before changing (boom) to a picture of the District Eleven boy. Then the Panem flag flashed up again for a moment, before fading to the black night sky again. Assuming that those were the tributes who had been killed today, I was thankful Nyxie's face hadn't popped up, but shocked at the sheer amount of tributes that had been killed today. Half of us gone already. Maybe it was due to the fact we were out of shape, or the murder-scene the Cone had become, but I got the feeling these Games would be very short, if the high kill amount kept up.

Sitting down, I felt tiredness overcome me. Sure, I was hungry and sure, I was uncomfortably warm, but I knew I had to sleep. Right now, there was no way I was going to be able to keep moving. My muscles and the many cuts along my skin burned, my feet complained every time I stood and my cheeks felt like a dragon had breathed on them. Grabbing the rough wool blanket, I pulled it lightly over me, knowing it was bound to get colder during the night. Already the temperature had dropped a little. Closing my eyes, I found sleep came easily – unlike the nights before, at the Capitol, when fear and anticipation of the Games had kept me awake. Now that I was here, there was no time for fear. I just had to do what I needed to in order to survive.

"Just kill him already." I awoke to the sound of a female voice nearby, and the thump of footsteps around me. Cold fear rushed through me, recognizing the voice as Emme's. The voice that spoke next, replying to her, I recognized as Sears', "We can't, Emme. He's the only on who knows how...this, works." I realized they were talking about the tap. Couldn't they see all you had to do was turn the switch? I had thought they were smarter.

Knowing there was no point in pretending to sleep, I blinked open my eyes to see several figures standing over me; Sears, Emme, Ryken, Anton, Phoebe, and both District Three tributes. It took them only a few seconds to realize I was awake and suddenly, I found Anton's boot against my chest, holding me down and nearly suffocating me in the process. I found myself being glared down at by Sears, Ryken and Anton, but I noticed with interest the District Three boy wandering away, as though uninterested. I had never really watched him during training, but he didn't look like the kind of person to be a strong fighter. Maybe I had an ally.

"Speak up, Twelve!" Anton hissed, pressing his boot down on my chest.

My voice was strained as I replied, "What do you want to know?"

"What's that tap thin over there?" Ryken demanded, "And what does it do?"

"I can't tell you." They shared a look.

"You better tell us, or I'll-" Sears began, but I interrupted.

"I can't tell you, because you're standing on my chest." There was a snort of laughter somewhere nearby, which I think came from the District Three girl, but it was quickly quietened by a glare from the boys. Anton did, however, ease his boot off me, albeit reluctantly. Sitting up, I breathed in deeply. "Thank you."

"Now will you tell us? And if you dare to try and run, I swear I'll cut your head off."

"Hmm," I thought aloud, a plan forming in my head as I did so. "No, I don't think I will."

"What?!" All three exclaimed in unison, almost comically.

"Look, I don't think you realize this, dumbass, but we can kill you in a second," snarled Sears, snapping his fingers to emphasize.

"How about we make a deal then, huh?" I asked, a smirk forming on my face.

"What sort of deal?" The District Three boy spoke up for the frist time, appearing behind the others' backs.

"I'll show you how to get water from that," I nodded over in the direction of the cactus, "If you let me join your little 'group'. Don't tell me this isn't an alliance – that's clear enough."

They all looked at each other, clearly considering the offer. I knew I had them backed into a corner. Water was one of the most valuable things out here, and I had something that could filter it from cacti, a plant that was abundant around here, I was sure. Eventually, Sears nodded, "Alright. You're in."

I stood up, brushing myself off. Trying to keep the smile off my face, I turned to the cactus. Already, I knew I had made a great step in my path to survival and victory. I had made an alliance with some of the strongest tributes out here.

It was time to start playing the Games.


	27. Cruel To Be Kind

"And this is our shelter," The District Three girl, who had introduced herself as Kahlua, explained, gesturing toward a cave made of rocks a few strides away. I nodded, looking it over as I did. It was obvious why they had chosen it – the roof kept the sun away and it was big enough to store things inside, plus one person. I doubted there was anything else like it out here. Outside the mouth, I could see several small crates, a few of which were open. Apples, bread and many other simple foods spilled out, making my stomach growl just at the sight of them. I hadn't been wrong about the Cone being stocked with food.

Several minutes later, I was sat alongside the two District Six tributes, wolfing down some bread and watching them twiddle with...something. It was about the size and shape of a dinner plate, except completely flat and with wires inside. That's what they were messing around with, trying to figure out how to get it to work. They had tried to explain it to me, but the amount of long words they used completely twisted my mind into knots. Instead, I chose to just sit back and let them do their thing, filling my empty stomach. I wasn't sure where the others had gone – they had just told me to stay here. I had no problem with that, of course, but I still didn't let my guard down. After all, every single person out here was trying to kill me, alliance or not.

"Where did you get that?" I was woken from my thoughts by the voice of Galv, the boy from Three, asking me a question. Following his gaze, I saw the tube on the ground, still slightly green on the end from the cactus. As soon as I had shown them how to use it, all of my new allies jumped at the chance to fill their bottles and quench their thirsts. Personally, I had thought they took more than needed – who carries _three _water bottles? - but now, I realized they had been doing the right thing. After all, the next cactus could be a good few miles away. We couldn't get that far without water.

"It came in this," I slipped the backpack off my back, setting it in front of me, "I got it from the Cone."

"Hmm," He leaned forward, grabbing the bag and sifting through it's contents, "Interesting. Everything inside came with it?"

"Yeah."

"Nice score," Kahlua spoke up, looking over his shoulder. I grinned at her modestly, pulling the silver knife out of my belt.

"It didn't come easy."

Kahlua an eyebrow cheekily and I swear I saw a smirk spreading across Galv's face, but he turned away, "You better put that away before the others come back. You'll be dead in a minute."

I did as he asked, grabbing another piece of bread. We fell back into silence again, my eyes lazily folowing their movements as they adjusted some wires here, shifted some microchips there. I was fairly certain that was what they were called, anyway. Once I'd finished eating, I moved over next to them, passing them their many tools as they needed them. I had no idea where they had got all these items – pliers, tweezers, screwdrivers – but they were certainly handy, and by the time the others came back at midday, I got the feeling they had come to a breakthrough. I wasn't completely sure, though. They were too quiet to tell.

"What're you doing?" Emme demanded, standing over Kahlua.

"Rewiring the inner computing system in order to-"

"In normal words, please!"

"We're changing the wires inside," Galv began to explain with an exasperated sigh, "So it works how we want it to."

"Or rather, how you want it to," growled Kahlua under her breath, but Emme didn't hear. If she did, she didn't say anything.

"Does it work yet, then?" Ryken asked, walking over.

"Not yet, but we're almost there."

Anton groaned, "Honestly, how long does it take?!"

The two glared up at him, but didn't say anything. It hadn't taken me long to figure out the pecking order within this group; Sears and Emme at the top, then Ryken, followed by Anton, with Galv and Kahlua at the bottom. I imagined I was at the bottom, too, if not lower. Another thing I had realized was that Anton held a grudge. I would hate to see him pitted against Nyxie.

Nyxie. I couldn't help but wonder how she was doing. Was she injured? I knew she had still been suffering from small bouts of pain before entering the Arena. Had her bullet wound healed yet? Did she have allies? There was a pang of emotion from somewhere within me, and I found myself wishing to be with her. We had made a pact, after all – but maybe it was for the best we weren't together. After all, what if it came down to just us? I still wasn't sure whether I could kill her.

"Twelve! Hey, Finnick!" I heard Emme calling to me, and I looked up. She was several strides away, figure silhoutted agaisnt the bright midday sun. "C'mon! You and I are going to go look around." Getting to my feet, I ran toward her, slowing to a walk as we began the route. Kahlua had already explained the routine to me – two of us would go out on almost hourly patrols around the Cave, while the rest stayed behind. The trip was about half a mile radius away, sometimes more, and it was done to watch for other tributes. Should they appear, one of us would return to get back up, while the other staked them out. I didn't like to think what would happen after.

When we weren't patrolling, Galv and Kahlua were working on whatever those contraptions were, while the others looked around for objects of use. The way they horded every and anything they could find kind of scared me. How were the others supposed to stand a fair chance when they held all the water and all the food? Then again, I supposed that was why they were doing it. Gathering everything and forcing the others out of hiding.

It was sick. But after all, that was how the Hunger Games worked. You had to be cruel to others, to be kind to yourself.


End file.
